UC-N 


B    3    321    351 


LIBRARY 

OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT    OF 


Receive^       OCT  27  1892       ,  189.    . 
Accessions  No.^1..      Shelf  No. 


V. 


$ 


THE 


CHAINBE  ARER ; 


OR, 


THE    LITTLEPAGE    MANUSCRIPTS. 


BY    J.     FENIMORE    COOPER. 


O  bid  our  vain  endeavours  ceaso 
Revive  the  just  designs  of  Greece  .• 
Return  in  all  thy  simple  state, 
Confirm  the  tale  her  sons  relate1— Cot'**  . 


COMPLETE 


I 


NEW    EDITION. 


NEW    YORK: 
STRINGER      AND      TOWNSEND. 

1856. 


THE   CHAIN-BEAKER. 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1845,  by 
J.  FENIMORE  COOPER, 

in  the  clerk's  ornce  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Northern  District 
of  New  York. 


PKEFACE. 

; 

THE  plot  has  thickened  in  the  few  short  months 
that  have  intervened  since  the  appearance  of  the  first 
portion  of  our  Manuscripts,  and  bloodshed  has  come 
to  deepen  the  stain  left  on  the  country  by  the  wide 
spread  and  bold  assertion  of  false  principles.  This 
must  long  since  have  been  foreseen ;  and  it  is  perhaps 
a  subject  of  just  felicitation,  that  the  violence  which 
has  occurred  was  limited  to  the  loss  of  a  single  life, 
when  the  chances  were,  and  still  are,  that  it  will  ex 
tend  to  civil  war.  That  portions  of  the  community 
have  behaved  nobly  under  this  sudden  outbreak  of  a 
lawless  and  unprincipled  combination  to  rob,  is  un 
deniable,  and  ought  to  be  dwelt  on  with  gratitude 
and  an  honest  pride ;  that  the  sense  of  right  of  much 
the  larger  portion  of  the  country  has  been  deeply 
wounded,  is  equally  true;  that  justice  has  been 
aroused,  and  is  at  this  moment  speaking  in  tones  of 
authority  to  the  offenders,  is  beyond  contradiction : 
but,  while  all  this  is  admitted,  and  admitted  not  alto 
gether  without  hope,  yet  are  there  grounds  for  fear, 
so  reasonable  and  strong,  that  no  writer  who  is  faith 
ful  to  the  real  interests  of  his  country  ought,  for  a 
single  moment,  to  lose  sight  of  them. 

High  authority,  in  one  sense,  or  that  of  political 
power,  has  pronounced  the  tenure  of  a  durable  lease 
to  be  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  the  institutions !  Yet 
these  tenures  existed  when  the  institutions  were 
formed,  and  one  of  the  provisions  of  the  institutions 
themselves  guarantees  the  observance  of  the  cove- 

(3) 


IV  PREFACE. 

nants  under  which  the  tenures  exist.  It  would  have 
been  far  wiser,  and  much  nearer  to  the  truth,  had 
those  who  coveted  their  neighbours'  goods  been  told 
that,  in  their  attempts  to  subvert  and  destroy  the 
tenures  in  question,  they  were  opposing  a  solemn  and 
fundamental  provision  of  law,  and  in  so  much  oppos 
ing  the  institutions.  The  capital  error  is  becoming 
prevalent,  which  holds  the  pernicious  doctrine  that 
this  is  a  government  of  men,  instead  of  one  of  prin 
ciples.  Whenever  this  error  shall  so  far  come  to  a 
head  as  to  get  to  be  paramount  in  action,  the  well- 
disposed  may  sit  down  and  mourn  over,  not  only  the 
liberties  of  their  country,  but  over  its  justice  and  its 
morals,  even  should  men  be  nominally  so  free  as  to  do 
just  what  they  please. 

As  the  Littlepage  Manuscripts  advance,  we  find 
them  becoming  more  and  more  suited  to  the  times  in 
which  we  live.  There  is  an  omission  of  one  gene- 
tion,  however,  owing  to  the  early  death  of  Mr.  Mai- 
bone  Littlepage,  who  left  an  only  son  to  succeed  him. 
This  son  has  felt  it  to  be  a  duty  to  complete  the 
series  by  an  addition  from  his  own  pen.  Without 
this  addition,  we  should  never  obtain  views  of  Satans- 
toe,  Lilacsbush,  Ravensnest,  and  Mooseridge,  in  their 
present  aspects ;  while  with  it,  we  may  possibly  ob 
tain  glimpses  that  will  prove  not  only  amusing  but 
instructive. 

There  is  one  point  on  which,  as  editor  of  these 
Manuscripts,  we  desire  to  say  a  word.  It  is  thought 
by  a  portion  of  our  readers,  that  the  first  Mr.  Little- 
page  who  has  written,  Cornelius  of  that  name,  has 
manifested  an  undue  asperity  on  the  subject  of  the 
New  England  character.  Our  reply  to  this  charge 


PREFACE.  >f 

is  as  follows :    In  the  first  place,  we  do  not  pretend 
to  be  answerable  for  all  the  opinions  of  those  whose 
writings  are  submitted  to  our  supervision,  any  more 
than  we  should  be  answerable  for  all  the  contra 
dictory  characters,  impulses,  and  opinions  that  might 
be  exhibited  in  a  representation  of  fictitious  charac 
ters,  purely  of  our  own  creation.     That  the  Little- 
pages  entertained  New  York  notions,  and  if  the  reader 
will,  New  York  prejudices,  may  be  true  enough  ;  but 
in  pictures  of  this  sort,  even  prejudices  become  facts 
that  ought  not  to  be  altogether  kept  down.     Then, 
New  England  has  long  since  anticipated  her  revenge, 
glorifying  herself  and  underrating  her  neighbours  in 
a  way  that,  in  our  opinion,  fully  justifies  those  who 
possess  a  little  Dutch  blood,  in  expressing  their  senti 
ments  on  the  subject.     Those  who  give  so  freely 
should  know  how  to  take  a  little  in  return ;  and  that 
more  especially,  when  there  is  nothing  very  direct  or 
personal  in  the  hits  they  receive.     For  ourselves,  we 
have  not  a  drop  of  Dutch  or  New  England  blood  in 
our  veins,  and  only  appear  as  a  bottle-holder  to  one 
of  the  parties  in  this  set-to.     If  we  have  recorded 
what  the  Dutchman  says  of  the  Yankee,  we  have 
also  recorded  what  the  Yankee  says,  and  that  with 
no  particular  hesitation,  of  the  Dutchman.   We  know 
that  these  feelings  are  bygones ;  but  our  Manuscripts, 
thus  far,  have  referred  exclusively  to  the  times  in 
which  they  certainly  existed,  and  that,  too,  in  a  force 
quite  as  great  as  they  are  here  represented  to  be. 

We  go  a  little  farther.  In  our  judgment  the  false 
principles  that  are  to  be  founcj  in  a  large  portion  of 
the  educated  classes,  on  the  subject  of  the  relation 
between  landlord  and  tenant,  are  to  be  traced  to  the 


VI  PREFACE. 

provincial  notions  of  those  who  have  received  their 
impressions  from  a  state  of  society  in  which  no  such 
relations  exist.  The  danger  from  the  anti-rent  doc 
trines  is  most  to  be  apprehended  from  these  false 
principles ; — the  misguided  and  impotent  beings  who 
have  taken  the  field  in  the  literal  sense,  not  being  a 
fourth  part  as  formidable  to  the  right,  as  those  who 
have  taken  it  in  the  moral.  There  is  not  a  particle 
more  of  reason  in  the  argument  which  says  that  there 
should  be  no  farmers,  in  the  strict  meaning  of  the 
term,  than  there  would  be  in  that  which  said  there 
should  be  no  journeymen  connected  with  the  crafts ; 
though  it  would  not  be  easy  to  find  a  man  to  assert 
the  latter  doctrine.  We  dare  say,  if  there  did  happen 
to  exist  a  portion  of  the  country  in  which  the  mecha 
nics  were  all  "  bosses,"  it  would  strike  those  who 
dwelt  in  such  a  state  of  society,  that  it  would  be  sin 
gularly  improper  and  anti-republican  for  any  man  to 
undertake  journeywork. 

On  this  subject  we  shall  only  add  one  word.  The 
column  of  society  must  have  its  capital  as  well  as  its 
base.  It  is  only  perfect  while  each  part  is  entire,  and 
discharges  its  proper  duty.  In  New  York  the  great 
landholders  long  have,  and  do  still,  in  a  social  sense, 
occupy  the  place  of  the  capital.  On  the  supposition 
that  this  capital  is  broken  and  hurled  to  the  ground, 
of  what  material  will  be  the  capital  that  must  be 
pushed  into  its  place !  We  know  of  none  half  so 
likely  to  succeed,  as  the  country  extortioner  and  the 
country  usurer !  We  would  caution  those  who  now 
raise  the  cry  of  feudality  and  aristocracy,  to  have  a 
care  of  what  they  are  about.  In  lieu  of  King  Log, 
they  may  be  devoured  by  King  Stork. 


THE  CHAINBEAREE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

M  The  steady  brain,  the  sinewy  limb, 
To  leap,  to  climb,  to  dive,  to  swim : 
The  iron  frame,  inured  to  bear 
Each  dire  inclemency  of  air ; 
Nor  less  confirmed  to  undergo 
Fatigue's  faint  chill,  and  famine's  throe." 

ROKJGBY. 

Mr  father  was  Cornelius  Littlepage,  of  Satanstoe,  in  the 
county  of  West  Chester,  and  State  of  New  York  ;  and  my 
mother  was  Anneke  Mordaunt,  of  Lilacsbush,  a  place  long 
known  by  that  name,  which  still  stands  near  Kingsbridge, 
but  on  the  island  of  Manhattan,  and  consequently  in  one  of 
the  wards  of  New  York,  though  quite  eleven  miles  from 
town.  I  shall  suppose  that  my  readers  know  the  difference 
between  the  Island  of  Manhattan,  and  Manhattan  Island; 
though  I  have  found  soi-disant  Manhattanese,  of  mature 
years,  but  of  alien  birth,  who  had  to  be  taught  it.  Lilacs- 
bush,  I  repeat  therefore,  was  on  the  Island  of  Manhattan, 
eleven  miles  from  town,  though  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
and  not  on  Manhattan  Island. 

Of  my  progenitors  further  back,  I  do  not  conceive  it  ne 
cessary  to  say  much.  They  were  partly  of  English,  and 
partly  of  Low  Dutch  extraction ;  as  is  apt  to  be  the  case 
with  those  who  come  of  New  York  families  of  any  standing 
in  the  colony.  I  retain  tolerably  distinct  impressions  of 
both  of  my  grandfathers,  and  of  one  of  my  grandmothers ; 
my  mother's  mother  having  died  long  before  my  own  pa 
rents  were  married. 

(7) 


8  THE     CIIAI  N  B  E  A  RE  R. 

Of  my  maternal  grandfather  I  know  very  little,  however, 
he  having  died  while  I  was  quite  young,  and  before  I  had 
seen  much  of  him.  He  paid  the  great  debt  of  nature  in 
England,  whither  he  had  gone  on  a  visit  to  a  relative,  a  Sir 
Something  Bulstrode,  who  had  been  in  the  colonies  him 
self,  and  who  was  a  great  favourite  with  Herman  Mordaunt, 
as  my  mother's  parent  was  universally  called  in  New  York. 
My  father  often  said,  it  was  perhaps  fortunate  in  one  re 
spect,  that  his  father-in-law  died  as  he  did,  since  he  had  no 
doubt  he  would  have  certainly  taken  sides  with  the  crown, 
in  the  quarrel  that  so  soon  after  occurred,  in  which  case  it 
is  probable  his  estates,  or  those  which  were  my  mother's, 
and  are  now  mine,  would  have  shared  the  fate  of  those  of 
the  de  Lanceys,  of  the  Philipses,  of  some  of  the  Van  Cort- 
landts,  of  the  Floyds,  of  the  Joneses,  and  of  various  others 
of  the  heavy  families,  who  remained  loyal,  as  it  was  called  ; 
meaning  loyalty  to  a  prince,  and  not  loyalty  to  the  land  of 
their  nativity.  It  is  hard  to  say  which  were  right,  in  such 
a  quarrel,  if  we  look  at  the  opinions  and  prejudices  of  the 
times,  though  the  Littlepages  to  a  man,  which  means  only 
my  father,  and  grandfather,  and  self,  took  sides  with  the 
country.  In  the  way  of  self-interest,  it  ought  to  be  remark 
ed,  however,  that  the  wealthy  American  who  opposed  the 
crown,  showed  much  the  most  disinterestedness,  inasmuch 
as  the  chances  of  being  subdued  were  for  a  Jong  time  very 
serious,  while  the  certainty  of  confiscation,  not  to  say  of 
being  hanged,  was  sufficiently  well  established,  in  the  event 
of  failure.  But,  my  paternal  grandfather  was  what  was 
called  a  whig,  of  the  high  caste.  He  was  made  a  brigadier 
in  the  militia,  in  1776,  and  was  actively  employed  in  the 
great  campaign  of  the  succeeding  year ;  that  in  which  Bur- 
goyne  was  captured,  as  indeed  was  my  father,  who  held  the 
rank  of  lieutenant-colonel  in  the  New  York  line.  There 
was  also  a  major  Dirck  Van  Volkenburgh,  or  Pollock,  as 
he  was  usually  called,  in  the  same  regiment  with  my  father, 
who  was  a  sworn  friend.  This  major  Pollock  was  an  old 
bachelor,  and  he  lived  quite  as  much  in  my  father's  house 
as  he  did  in  his  own ;  his  proper  residence  being  across  the 
river,  in  Rockland.  My  mother  had  a  friend,  as  well  as 
my  father,  in  the  person  of  Miss  Mary  Wallace ;  a  single 
lady,  well  turned  of  thirty  at  the  commencement  of  the  re- 


THECHAINBEARER.  9 

volution.  Miss  Wallace  was  quite  at  ease  in  her  circum 
stances,  but  she  lived  altogether  at  Lilacsbush,  never  having 
any  other  home,  unless  it  might  be  at  our  house  in  town. 

We  were  very  proud  of  the  brigadier,  both  on  account  of 
his  rank  and  on  account  of  his  services.  He  actually  com 
manded  in  one  expedition  against  the  Indians  during  the 
revolution,  a  service  in  which  he  had  some  experience, 
having  been  out  on  it,  on  various  occasions,  previously  to 
the  great  struggle  for  independence.  It  was  in  one  of  these 
early  expeditions  of  the  latter  war  that  he  first  distinguished 
himself,  being  then  under  the  orders  of  a  colonel  Brom 
Follock,  who  was  the  father  of  major  Dirck  of  the  same 
name,  and  who  was  almost  as  great  a  friend  of  my  grand 
father  as  the  son  was  of  my  own  parent.  This  colonel 
Brom  loved  a  carouse,  and  I  have  heard  it  said  that,  getting 
among  the  High  Dutch  on  the  Mohawk,  he  kept  it  up  for  a 
week,  with  little  or  no  intermission,  under  circumstances 
that  involved  much  military  negligence.  The  result  was 
that  a  party  of  Canada  Indians  made  an  inroad  on  his  com 
mand,  and  the  old  colonel,  who  was  as  bold  as  a  lion,  and 
as  drunk  as  a  lord,  though  why  lords  are  supposed  to  be 
particularly  inclined  to  drink  I  never  could  tell,  was  both 
shot  down  and  scalped  early  one  morning  as  he  was  re 
turning  from  an  adjacent  tavern  to  his  quarters  in  the 
"  garrison,"  where  he  was  stationed.  My  grandfather  nobly 
revenged  his  death,  scattering  to  the  four  winds  the  invading 
party,  and  receiving  the  mutilated  body  of  his  friend,  though 
the  scalp  was  irretrievably  lost. 

General  Littlepage  did  not  survive  the  war,  though  it  was 
not  his  good  fortune  to  die  on  the  field,  thus  identifying  his 
name  with  the  history  of  his  country.  It  happens  in  all 
wars,  and  most  especially  did  it  often  occur  in  our  own 
great  national  struggle,  that  more  soldiers  lay  down  their 
lives  in  the  hospitals  than  on  the  field  of  battle,  though  the 
shedding  of  blood  seems  an  indispensable  requisite  to  glory 
of  this  nature ;  an  ungrateful  posterity  taking  little  heed  of 
the  thousands  who  pass  into  another  state  of  being,  the 
victims  of  exposure  and  camp  diseases,  to  sound  the  praises 
of  the  hundreds  who  are  slain  amid  the  din  of  battle.  Yet, 
it  may  be  questioned  if  it  do  not  req'uire  more  true  courage 
to  face  death,  when  he  approaches  in  the  invisible  form  oi 


10  THECHAINBEAHER. 

disease,  than  to  meet  him  when  openly  arrayed  under  tho 
armed  hand.  My  grandfather's  conduct  in  remaining  in 
camp,  among  hundreds  of  those  who  had  the  smallpox,  the 
loathsome  malady  of  which  he  died,  was  occasionally  alluded 
to,  it  is  true,  but  never  in  the  manner  the  death  of  an  officer 
of  his  rank  would  have  been  mentioned,  had  he  fallen  in 
battle.  I  could  see  that  major  Pollock  had  an  honourable 
pride  in  the  fate  of  his  father,  who  was  slain  and  scalped  by 
the  enemy  in  returning  from  a  drunken  carouse,  while  my 
worthy  parent  ever  referred  to  the  death  of  the  brigadier  as 
an  event  to  be  deplored,  rather  than  exulted  in.  For  my 
own  part,  I  think  my  grandfather's  end  was  much  the  most 
creditable  of  the  two ;  but,  as  such,  it  will  never  be  viewed 
by  the  historian,  or  the  country.  As  for  historians,  it  re 
quires  a  man  to  be  singularly  honest  lo  write  against  a 
prejudice ;  and  it  is  so  much  easier  to  celebrate  a  deed  as  it 
is  imagined  than  as  it  actually  occurred,  that  I  question  if 
we  know  the  truth  of  a  tenth  part  of  the  exploits  about  which 
we  vapour,  and  in  which  we  fancy  we  glory.  Well !  we 
are  taught  to  believe  that  the  time  wilt  come  when  all  things 
are  to  be  seen  in  their  true  colours,  and  when  men  and  deeds 
will  be  known  as  they  actually  were,  rather  than  as  they 
have  been  recorded  in  the  pages  of  history. 

I  was  too  young  myself  to  take  much  part  in  the  war  of 
the  revolution,  though  accident  made  me  an  eye-witness  of 
some  of  its  most  important  events,  and  that  at  the  tender 
age  of  fifteen.  At  twelve — the  American  intellect  ever  was 
and  continues  to  be  singularly  precocious  —  I  was  sent  to 
Nassau  Hall,  Princeton,  to  be  educated,  and  I  remained  there 
until  I  finally  got  a  degree,  though  it  was  not  without  se 
veral  long  and  rude  interruptions  of  my  studies.  Although 
so  early  sent  to  college,  I  did  not  actually  graduate  until  I 
was  nineteen,  the  troubled  times  requiring  nearly  twice  as 
long  a  servitude  to  make  a  Bachelor  of  Arts  of  me  as  would 
have  been  necessary  in  the  more  halcyon  days  of  peace. 
Thus  I  made  a  fragment  of  a  campaign  when  only  a  sopho 
more,  and  another  the  first  year  I  was  junior.  I  say  the 
first  year,  because  I  was  obliged  to  pass  two  years  in  each 
of  the  two  higher  classes  of  the  institution,  in  order  to  make 
up  for  lost  time.  A  youth  cannot  very  well  be  campaigning 
and  studying  Euclid  in  the  academic  bowers,  at  the  same 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  11 

moment.  Then  I  was  so  young,  that  a  year,  more  or  less, 
was  of  no  great  moment. 

My  principal  service  in  the  war  of  the  revolution  was  in 
1777,  or  in  the  campaign  in  which  Burgoyne  was  met  and 
captured.  That  important  service  was  performed  by  a  force 
that  was  composed  partly  of  regular  troops,  and  partly  of 
militia.  My  grandfather  commanded  a  brigade  of  the  last, 
or  what  was  called  a  brigade,  some  six  hundred  men  at 
most ;  while  my  father  led  a  regular  battalion  of  one  hun 
dred  and  sixty  troops  of  the  New  York  line,  into  the  Ger 
man  intrenchments,  the  memorable  and  bloody  day  the  last 
were  stormed.  How  many  he  brought  out  I  never  heard 
him  say.  The  way  in  which  I  happened  to  be  present  in 
these  important  scenes,  is  soon  told. 

Lilacsbush  being  on  the  Island  of  Manhattan,  (not  Man 
hattan  Island,  be  it  always  remembered),  and  our  family 
being  whig,  we  were  driven  from  both  our  town  and  country 
houses,  the  moment  Sir  William  Howe  took  possession  of 
New  York.  At  first,  my  mother  was  content  with  going 
merely  to  Satanstoe,  which  was  only  a  short  distance  from 
the  enemy's  lines ;  but  the  political  character  of  the  Little- 
pages  being  too  well  established  to  render  this  a  safe  resi 
dence,  my  grandmother  and  mother,  always  accompanied 
by  Miss  Wallace,  went  up  above  the  Highlands,  where  they 
established  themselves  in  the  village  of  Fishkill,  for  the 
remainder  of  the  war,  on  a  farm  that  belonged  to  Miss 
Wallace,  in  fee.  Here  it  was  thought  they  were  safe,  being 
seventy  miles  from  the  capital,  and  quite  within  the  Ameri 
can  lines.  As  this  removal  took  place  at  the  close  of  the 
year  1776,  and  after  independence  had  been  declared,  it 
was  understood  that  our  return  to  our  proper  homes  at  all 
depended  on  the  result  of  the  war.  At  that  time  I  was  a 
sophomore,  and  at  home  in  the  long  vacation.  It  was  in 
this  visit  that  I  made  my  fragment  of  a  campaign,  accom 
panying  my  father  through  all  the  closing  movements  of  his 
regiment,  while  Washington  and  Howe  were  manceuvring 
in  Westchester.  My  father's  battalion  happening  to  be 
posted  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  in  the  centre  of  battle  at 
White  Plains,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  some  pretty 
serious  service  on  that  occasion.  Nor  did  I  quit  the  army, 
and  return  to  my  sf'.«dies'  until  after  the  brilliant  affairs  &t 


THE    CHAINBEARER. 

Trenton  and  Princeton,  in  both  of  which  our  regiment  par 
ticipated 

This  was  a  pretty  early  commencement  with  the  things 
of  active  life,  for  a  boy  of  fourteen.  But,  in  that  war,  lads 
of  my  age*  often  carried  muskets,  for  the  colonies  covered  a 
great  extent  of  country,  and  had  but  few  people.  They  who 
read  of  the  war  of  the  American  revolution,  and  view  its 
campaigns  and  battles  as  they  would  regard  the  conflicts  of 
older  and  more  advanced  nations,  can  form  no  just  notions 
of  the  disadvantages  with  which  our  people  had  to  contend, 
or  the  great  superiority  of  the  enemy  in  all  the  usual  ele 
ments  of  military  force.  Without  experienced  officers,  with 
but  few  and  indifferent  arms,  often  in  want  of  ammunition, 
the  rural  and  otherwise  peaceful  population  of  a  thinly  peo 
pled  country  were  brought  in  conflict  with  the  chosen  war 
riors  of  Europe ;  and  this,  too,  with  little  or  none  of  that 
great  sinew  of  war,  money,  to  sustain  them.  Nevertheless, 
the  Americans,  unaided  by  any  foreign  skill,  or  succour, 
were  about  as  often  successful  as  the  reverse.  Bunker  Hill, 
Bennington,  Saratoga,  Bhemis'  Heights,  Trenton,  Princeton, 
Monmouth,  were  all  purely  American  battles ;  to  say  no 
thing  of  divers  others  that  occurred  further  south;  and, 
though  insignificant  as  to  numbers,  compared  with  the  con 
flicts  of  these  later  times,  each  is  worthy  of  a  place  in  his 
tory,  and  one  or  two  are  almost  without  parallels ;  as  is 
seen  when  Bunker  Hill  be  named.  It  sounds  very  well  in  a 
despatch,  to  swell  out  the  list  of  an  enemy's  ranks ;  but, 
admitting  the  number  itself  not  to  be  overrated,  as  so  often 
occurred,  of  what  avail  are  men  without  arms  or  ammuni 
tion,  and  frequently  without  any  other  military  organization 
than  a  muster-roll ! 

I  have  said  I  made  nearly  the  whole  of  the  campaign  in 
which  Burgoyne  was  taken.  It  happened  in  this  wise.  The 
service  of  the  previous  year  had  a  good  deal  indisposed  me 
to  study,  and  when  again  at  home,  in  the  autumn  vacation, 
my  dear  mother  sent  me  with  clothing  and  supplies  to  my 
lather,  who  was  with  the  army  at  the  north.  I  reached  the 
head-quarters  of  general  Gates  a  week  before  the  affair  of 
Bhemis'  Heights,  and  was  with  my  father  until  the  capitula 
tion  was  completed.  Owing  to  these  circumstances,  though 
still  a  boy  m  years,  I  was  an  eye-witness,  and  in  some  mea- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  13 

gire,  an  actor  in  two  or  three  of  the  most  important  events 
of  the  whole  war.  Being  well-grown  for  my  years,  and  of 
a  somewhat  manly  appearance  considering  how  young  I 
really  was,  I  passed  very  well  as  a  volunteer,  being,  I  have 
reason  to  think,  somewhat  of  a  favourite  in  the  regiment. 
In  the  last  battle,  I  had  the  honour  to  act  as  a  sort  of  aide- 
de-camp  to  my  grandfather,  who  sent  me  with  orders  and 
messages,  two  or  three  times,  into  the  midst  of  the  fire.  In 
this  manner  I  made  myself  a  little  known,  and  all  so  much 
the  more,  from  the  circumstance  of  my  being  in  fact  nothing 
but  a  college  lad,  away  from  his  alma  mater,  during  vaca 
tion. 

It  was  but  natural  that  a  boy  thus  situated  should  attract 
some  little  attention,  and  I  was  noticed  by  officers,  who, 
under  other  circumstances,  would  hardly  have  felt  it  neces 
sary  to  go  out  of  their  way  to  speak  to  me.  The  Littlepages 
had  stood  well,  I  have  reason  to  think,  in  the  colony,  and 
their  position  in  the  new  state  was  not  likely  to  be  at  all 
lowered  by  the  part  they  were  now  playing  in  the  revolu 
tion.  I  am  far  from  certain  that  general  Littlepage  was 
considered  a  corner  post  in  the  Temple  of  Freedom  that  the 
army  was  endeavouring  to  rear,  but  he  was  quite  respects^ 
ble  as  a  militia  officer,  while  my  father  was  very  generally 
admitted  to  be  one  of  the  best  lieutenants-colonel  in  the 
whole  army. 

I  well  remember  to  have  been  much  struck  with  a  captain 
in  my  father's  regiment,  who  certainly  was  a  character,  in 
his  way.  His  origin  was  Dutch,  as  was  the  case  with  a  fair 
proportion  of  the  officers ;  and  he  bore  the  name  of  Andries 
Coejemans,  though  he  was  universally  known  by  the  so 
briquet  of  the  "  Chainbearer."  It  was  fortunate  for  him  it 
was  so,  else  would  the  Yankees  in  the  camp,  who  seem  to 
have  a  mania  to  pronounce  every  word  as  it  is  spelled,  and 
having  succeeded  in  this,  to  change  the  spelling  of  the  whole 
language  to  accommodate  it  to  certain  sounds  of  their  own 
inventing,  would  have  given  him  a  most  unpronounceable 
appellation.  Hnven  only  knows  what  they  would  have 
called  captain  Coejemans,  but  for  this  lucky  nick-name;  but 
it  may  be  as  well  to  let  the  uninitiated  understand  at  once, 
that,  in  New  York  parlance,  Coejemans  is  called  Queemans. 
The  Chainbearer  was  of  a  respectable  Dutch  family,  one 
2 


14  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

that  has  even  given  its  queer-looking  name  to  a  place  of 
some  little  note  on  the  Hudson ;  but,  as  was  very  apt  to  be 
the  case  with  the  cadets  of  such  houses,  in  the  good  old 
time  of  the  colony,  his  education  was  no  great  matter.  His 
means  had  once  been  respectable,  but,  as  he  always  main- 
tained,  he  was  cheated  out  of  his  substance  by  a  Yankee 
before  he  was  three-and-twenty,  and  he  had  had  recourse  to 
surveying  for  a  living  from  that  time.  But  Andries  had  no- 
head  for  mathematics,  and,  after  making  one  or  two  notable 
blunders  in  the  way  of  his  new  profession,  he  quietly  sunk 
to  the  station  of  a  Chainbearer,  in  which  capacity  he  was 
known  to  all  the  leading  men  of  his  craft  in  the  colony.  It 
is  said  that  every  man  is  suited  to  some  pursuit  or  other,  in 
which  he  might  acquire  credit,  would  he  only  enter  on  it 
and  persevere.  Thus  it  proved  to  be  with  Andries  Coeje- 
mans.  As  a  Chainbearer  he  had  an  unrivalled  reputation. 
Humble  as  was  the  occupation,  it  admitted  of  excellence  in 
various  particulars,  as  well  as  another.  In  the  first  place, 
it  required  honesty,  a  quality  in  which  this  class  of  men 
can  fail,  as  well  as  all  the  rest  of  mankind.  Neither  colony 
nor  patentee,  landlord  nor  tenant,  buyer  nor  seller,  need  be 
u%easy  about  being  fairly  dealt  by,  so  long  as  Andries 
Coejemans  held  the  forward  end  of  the  chain ;  a  duty  on 
which  he  was  invariably  placed,  by  one  party  or  the  other. 
Then,  a  practical  eye  was  a  great  aid  to  positive  measure 
ment  ;  and,  while  Andries  never  swerved  to  the  right  or  to 
the  left  of  his  course,  having  acquired  a  sort  of  instinct  in 
his  calling,  much  time  and  labour  were  saved.  In  addition 
to  these  advantages,  the  "  Chainbearer"  had  acquired  great 
skill  in  all  the  subordinate  matters  of  his  calling.  He  was 
a  capital  woodsman,  generally  ;  had  become  a  good  hunter, 
and  had  acquired  most  of  the  habits  that  pursuits  like  those 
in  which  he  was  engaged,  for  so  many  years  previously  to 
entering  the  army,  would  be  likely  to  give  a  man.  In  the 
course  of  time,  he  took  patents  to  survey,  employing  men 
with  heads  better  than  his  own  to  act  as  principals,  while 
he  still  carried  the  chain. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  revolution,  Andries,  like 
most  of  those  who  sympathized  with  the  colonies,  took  up 
arms.  When  the  regiment  of  which  my  father  was  the 
lieutenant-colonel  was  raised,  they  who  could  bring  to  its 


THECHAINBEARER.  15 

colours  so  many  men  received  commissions  of  a  rank  pro 
portioned  to  their  services  in  this  respect.  Andries  had 
presented  himself  early  with  a  considerable  squad  of  chain- 
bearers,  hunters,  trappers,  runners,  guides,  &c.,  numbering 
in  the  whole  something  like  five-and-twenty  hardy,  resolute 
sharpshooters.  Their  leader  was  made  a  lieutenant  in  con 
sequence,  and  being  the  oldest  of  his  rank  in  the  corps,  he 
was  shortly  after  promoted  to  a  captaincy,  the  station  he 
was  in  when  I  made  his  acquaintance,  and  above  which  he 
never  rose. 

Revolutions,  more  especially  such  as  are  of  a  popular 
character,  are  not  remarkable  for  bringing  forward  those 
who  are  highly  educated,  or  otherwise  fitted  for  their  new 
stations,  unless  it  may  be  on  the  score  of  zeal.  It  is  true, 
service  generally  classes  men,  bringing  out  their  qualities, 
and  necessity  soon  compels  the  preferment  of  those  who  are 
the  best  qualified.  Our  own  great  national  struggle,  how 
ever,  probably  did  less  of  this  than  any  similar  event  of 
modern  times,  a  respectable  mediocrity  having  accordingly 
obtained  an  elevation  that,  as  a  rule,  it  was  enabled  to  keep 
to  the  close  of  the  war.  It  is  a  singular  fact  that  not  a 
solitary  instance  is  to  be  found  in  our  military  annals -of  a 
young  soldier's  rising  to  high  command,  by  the  force  of  his 
talents,  in  all  that  struggle.  This  may  have  been,  and  in  a 
measure  probably  was  owing  to  the  opinions  of  the  people, 
and  to  the  circumstance  that  the  service  itself  was  one  that 
demanded  greater  prudence  and  circumspection,  than  quali 
ties  of  a  more  dazzling  nature ;  or  the  qualifications  of  age 
and  experience,  rather  than  those  of  youth  and  enterprise. 
It  is  probable  Andries  Coejemans,  on  the  score  of  original 
station,  was  rather  above  than  below  the  level  of  the  social 
positions  of  a  majority  of  the  subalterns  of  the  different  lines 
of  the  more  northern  colonies,  when  he  first  joined  the  army. 
It  is  true,  his  education  was  not  equal  to  his  birth ;  for,  in 
that  day,  except  in  isolated  instances  and  particular  families, 
the  Dutch  of  New  York,  even  in  cases  in  which  money  was 
not  wanting,  were  anything  but  scholars.  In  this  particular, 
our  neighbours  the  Yankees  had  greatly  the  advantage  of 
us.  They  sent  everybody  to  school,  and,  though  their 
educations  were  principally  those  of  smatterers,  it  is  an  ad 
vantage  to  be  even  a  smatterei  amonp  the  very  ignorant. 


16  THECHAINBEARER. 

Andries  had  been  no  student  either,  and  one  may  easily 
imagine  what  indifferent  cultivation  will  effect  on  a  naturally 
thin  soil.  He  could  read  and  write,  it  is  true,  but  it  was 
the  cyphering  under  which  he  broke  down,  as  a  surveyor. 
I  have  often  heard  him  say,  that  "  if  land  could  be  measured 
without  figures,  he  would  turn  his  back  on  no  man  in  the 
calling  in  all  America,  unless  it  might  be  '  His  Excellency,' 
who,  he  made  no  doubt,  was  not  only  the  best,  but  the  ho- 
nestest  surveyor  mankind  had  ever  enjoyed." 

The  circumstance  that  Washington  had  practised  the  art 
of  a  surveyor  for  a  short  time  in  his  early  youth,  was  a 
gource  of  great  exultation  with  Andries  Coejemans.  He 
felt  that  it  was  an  honour  to  be  even  a  subordinate  in  a  pur 
suit  in  which  such  a  man  was  a  principal.  I  remember,, 
that  long  after  we  were  at  Saratoga  together,  captain  Coeje 
mans,  while  we  were  before  Yorktown,  pointed  to  the  com- 
rnander-in-chief  one  day,,  as  the  latter  rode  past  our  encamp 
ment,  and  cried  out,  with  emphasis  — "  T'ere,  Mortaunt, 
my  poy — t'ere  goes  His  Excellency  ! — It  woult  be  t'e  hap 
piest  tay  of  my  life,  coult  I  only  carry  chain  while  he 
survey't  a  pit  of  a  farm,  in  this  neighbourpoot." 

Andries  was  more  or  less  Dutch  in  his  dialect,  as  he  was 
more  or  less  interested.  In  general,  he  spoke  English  pretty 
well — colony  English  I  mean,  not  that  of  the  schools;  though 
he  had  not  a  single  Yankeeism  in  his  vocabulary.  On  this 
last  point,  he  prided  himself  greatly,  feeling  an  honest  pride, 
if  he  did  occasionally  use  vulgarisms,  a  vicious  pronuncia 
tion,  or  make  a  mistake  in  the  meaning  of  a  word,  a  sin  he 
was  a  little  apt  to  commit ;  and  that  his  faults  were  all  ho 
nest  New  York  mistakes,  and  no  "  New  Englant  gipperish." 
In  the  course  of  the  various  visits  I  paid  to  the  camp,  An 
dries  and  myself  became  quite  intimate,  his  peculiarities 
seizing  my  fancy ;  and,  doubtless,  my  obvious  admiration- 
awakening  his  gratitude.  In  the  course  of  our  many  con 
versations,  he  gave  me  his  whole  history,  commencing  with 
the  emigration  of  the  Coejemans  from  Holland,  and  ending 
with  our  actual  situation,  in  the  camp  at  Saratoga.  Andries 
had  been  often  engaged,  and,  before  the  war  terminated,  I 
could  boast  of  having  been  at  his  side  in  no  less  than  six 
affairs  myself,  viz :  White  Plains,  Trenton,  Princeton,  Bhe- 
mis'  Heights  Monmouth,  and  Brandy  wine ;  for  I  had  stolen* 


THECHAINBEARER.  17 

liway  from  college  to  be  present  at  the  last  affair.  The 
circumstance  that  our  regiment  was  both  with  Washington 
and  Gates  was  owing  to  the  noble  qualities  of  the  former, 
who  sent  off  some  of  his  best  troops  to  reinforce  his  rival, 
as  things  gathered  to  a  head  at  the  north.  Then  I  was  pre 
sent  throughout,  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown.  But,  it  is  not 
rny  intention  to  enlarge  on  my  own  military  services. 

While  at  Saratoga,  I  was  much  struck  with  the  air,  posi 
tion  and  deportment  of  a  gentleman  who  appeared  to  com 
mand  the  respect,  and  to  obtain  the  ears  of  all  the  leaders 
in  the  American  camp,  while  he  held  no  apparent  official 
station.  He  wore  no  uniform,  though  he  was  addressed  by 
the  title  of  general,  and  had  much  more  of  the  character  of 
a  real  soldier  than  Gates,  who  commanded.  He  must  have 
been  between  forty  and  fifty  at  that  time,  and  in  the  full 
enjoyment  of  the  vigour  of  his  mind  and  body.  This  was 
Philip  Schuyler,  so  justly  celebrated  in  our  annals  for  his 
wisdom,  patriotism,  integrity,  and  public  services.  His  con 
nection  with  the  great  northern  campaign  is  too  well  known 
to  require  any  explanations  here.  Its  success,  perhaps,  was 
more  owing  to  his  advice  and  preparations  than  to  the  in 
fluence  of  any  one  other  mind,  and  he  is  beginning  already 
to  take  a  place  in  history,  in  connection  with  these  great 
events,  that  has  a  singular  resemblance  to  that  he  occupied 
during  their  actual  occurrence :  in  other  words,  he  is  to  be 
seen  in  the  back-ground  of  the  great  national  picture,  unob 
trusive  and  modest,  but  directing  and  controlling  all,  by  the 
power  of  his  intellect,  and  the  influence  of  his  experience 
and  character.  Gates*  was  but  a  secondary  personage,  in 
the  real  events  of  that  memorable  period.  Schuyler  was  the 
presiding  spirit,  though  forced  by  popular  prejudice  to  retire 
from  the  apparent  command  of  the  army.  Our  written  ac 
counts  ascribe  the  difficulty  that  worked  this  injustice  to 
Schuyler,  to  a  prejudice  which  existed  among  the  eastern 
militia,  and  which  is  supposed  to  have  had  its  origin  in  the 
disasters  of  St.  Clair;  or  the  reverses  which  attended  the 
earlier  movements  of  the  campaign.  My  father,  who  had 

*  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  remark,  in  passing,  that  Horace  Walpole, 
in  one  of  his  recently  published  letters,  speaks  of  a  Horatio  Gates  a.9 
his  godson.  Walpole  was  born  in  1718,  and  Gates  in  1728. 


18  THE     CHAIN  BEARER. 

known  general  Schuyler  in  the  war  of  '56,  when  he  acted 
as  Bradstreet's  right-hand  man-,  attributed  the  feeling  to  a 
different  cause.  According  to  his  notion  of  the  alienation, 
it  was  owing  to  the  difference  in  habits  and  opinions  which 
existed  between  Schuyler,  as  a  New  York  gentleman,  and 
the  yeomen  of  New  England,  who  came  out  in  1777,  im 
bued  with  all  the  distinctive  notions  of  their  very  peculiar 
state  of  society.  There  may  have  been  prejudices  on  both 
sides,  but  it  is  easy  to  see  which  party  exhibited  most  mag 
nanimity  and  self-sacrifice.  Possibly,  the  last  was  insepara 
ble  from  the  preponderance  of  numbers,  it  not  being  an  easy 
thing  to  persuade  masses  of  men  that  they  can  be  wrong, 
and  a  single  individual  right.  This  is  the  great  error  of 
democracy,  which  fancies  truth  is  to  be  proved  by  counting 
noses  ;  while  aristocracy  commits  the  antagonist  blunder  of 
believing  that  excellence  is  inherited,  from  male  to  male, 
and  that  too  in  the  order  of  primogeniture!  It  is  not  easy 
to  say  where  one  is  to  look  for  truth,  in  this  life. 

As  for  general  Schuyler,  I  have  thought  my  father  was 
right  in  ascribing  his  unpopularity  solely  to  the  prejudices 
of  provinces.  The  Muse  of  History  is  the  most  ambitious 
of  the  whole  sisterhood,  and  never  thinks  she  has  done  her 
duty  unless  all  she  says  and  records  is  said  and  recorded 
with  an  air  of  profound  philosophy  ;  whereas,  more  than 
half  of  the  greatest  events  which  affect  human  interest,  are 
to  be  referred  to  causes  that  have  little  connection  with  our 
boasted  intelligence,  in  any  shape.  Men  feel  far  more  than 
they  reason,  and  a  little  feeling  is  very  apt  to  upset  a  great 
deal  of  philosophy. 

It  has  been  said  that  I  passed  six  years  at  Princeton ; 
nominally,  if  not  in  fact ;  and  that  I  graduated  at  nineteen. 
This  happened  the  year  Cornwallis  surrendered,  and  I  ac 
tually  served  at  the  siege  as  the  youngest  ensign  in  my 
father's  battalion.  I  had  also  the  happiness,  for  such  it  was 
to  me,  to  be  attached  to  the  company  of  captain  Coejemans, 
a  circumstance  which  clenched  the  friendship  I  had  formed 
for  that  singular  old  man.  I  say  old,  for  by  this  time  Andries 
was  every  hour  of  sixty-seven,  though  as  hale,  and  hearty, 
and  active,  as  any  officer  in  the  corps.  As  for  hardships, 
fcrty  years  of  training,  most  of  which  had  been  passed  in 


THECHAINBEARER.  19 

the  woods,  placed  him  quite  at  our  head,  in  the  way  of  en 
durance. 

I  loved  my  predecessors,  grandfather  and  grandmother 
included,  not  only  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  with  sincere 
filial  attachment ;  and  I  loved  Miss  Mary  Wallace,  or  aunt 
Mary,  as  I  had  been  taught  to  call  her,  quite  as  much  on 
account  of  her  quiet,  gentle,  affectionate  manner,  as  from 
habit ;  and  I  loved  major  Dirck  Pollock  as  a  sort  ot  heredi 
tary  friend,  as  a  distant  relative,  and  a  good  and  caieful 
guardian  of  my  own  youth  and  inexperience  on  a  thousand 
occasions ;  and  I  loved  my  father's  negro  man,  Jaap,  a»  we 
all  love  faithful  slaves,  however  unnurtured  they  may  be; 
but  Andries  was  the  man  whom  I  loved  without  knowing 
why.  He  was  illiterate  almost  to  greatness,  having  the 
drollest  notions  imaginable  of  this  earth  and  all  it  contained; 
was  anything  but  refined  in  deportment,  though  hearty  and 
frank ;  had  prejudices  so  crammed  into  his  moral  system 
that  there  did  not  seem  to  be  room  for  anything  else ;  and 
was  ever  so  little  addicted,  moreover,  to  that  species  of 
Dutch  jollification,  which  had  cost  old  colonel  Van  Valken- 
burgh  his  life,  and  a  love  for  which  was  a  good  deal  spread 
throughout  the  colony.  Nevertheless,  I  really  loved  this 
man,  and  when  we  were  all  disbanded  at  the  peace,  or  in 
1783,  by  which  time  I  had  myself  risen  to  the  rank  of  cap 
tain,  I  actually  parted  from  old  Andries  with  tears  in  my 
eyes.  My  grandfather,  general  Littlepage,  was  then  dead, 
but  government  giving  to  most  of  us  a  step,  by  means  of 
brevet  rank,  at  the  final  breaking  up  of  the  army,  my  father, 
who  had  been  the  full  colonel  of  the  regiment  for  the  last 
year,  bore  the  title  of  brigadier  for  the  remainder  of  his 
days.  It  was  pretty  much  all  he  got  for  seven  years  of 
dangers"  and  arduous  services.  But  the  country  was  poor, 
and  we  had  fought  more  for  principles  than  for  the  hope  of 
rewards.  It  must  be  admitted  that  America  ought  to  be  full 
of  philosophy,  inasmuch  as  so  much  of  her  system  of  re 
wards,  and  even  of  punishments,  is  purely  theoretical,  and 
addressed  to  the  imagination,  or  to  the  qualities  of  the  mind. 
Thus  it  is,  that  we  contend  with  all  our  enemies  on  very 
unequal  grounds.  The  Englishman  has  his  knighthood, 
his  baronetcies,  his  peerages,  his  orders,  his  higher  ranks 
in  the  professions,  his  batons,  and  all  the  other  venial  in- 


20  THE    CH AINBE ARER. 

ducements  of  our  corrupt  nature  to  make  him  fight,  while 
the  American  is. goaded  on  to  glory  by  the  abstract  consi 
derations  of  virtue  and  patriotism.  After  ail,  we  flog  quite 
as  often  as  we  are  flogged,  which  is  the  main  interest  affect 
ed.  While  on  this  subject  I  will  remark  that  Andries  Coeje- 
mans  never  assumed  the  empty  title  of  major,  which  was 
so  graciously  bestowed  on  him  by  the  congress  of  1783, 
but  left  the  army  a  captain  in  name,  without  half-pay,  or 
anything  but  his"  military  lot,  to  find  a  niece  whom  he  was 
bringing  up,  and  to  pursue  his  old  business  of  a  "  Chain- 
bearer." 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  A  trusty  villain,  sir  ;  that  very  oft, 
When  I  am  dull  with  care  and  melancholy, 
Lightens  my  humours  with  his  many  jests." 

Domino  of  Syracuse. 

IT  will  be  seen  that,  while  I  got  a  degree,  and  what  is 
called  an  education,  the  latter  was  obtained  by  studies  of  a 
very  desultory  character.  There  is  no  question  that  learn 
ing  of  all  sorts  fell  off  sadly  among  us  during  the  revolution 
and  the  twenty  years  that  succeeded  it.  While  colonies,  we 
possessed  many  excellent  instructors  who  came  from  Eu 
rope  ;  but  the  supply  ceased,  in  a  great  measure,  as  soon 
as  the  troubles  commenced ;  nor  was  it  immediately  renew 
ed  at  the  peace.  I  think  it  will  be  admitted  that  the  gentle 
men  of  the  country  began  to  be  less  well  educated  about 
the  time  I  was  sent  to  college,  than  had  been  the  case  for 
the  previous  half  century,  and  that  the  defect  has  not  yet 
been  repaired.  What  the  country  may  do  in  the  first  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century  remains  to  be  seen.* 

*  The  reader  will  recollect  that  Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage  must 
have  written  his  account  of  himself  and  his  times,  about  the  close 
of  the  last,  or  the  beginning  of  this  century.  Since  that  time,  educa 
tion  has  certainly  advanced  among  us  ;  sophomores  pursuing  branches 
of  learning  to-day,  that  were  sealed  from  seniors  a  few  years  since. 
Learning,  however,  advances  in  this  country,  on  the  great  American 
principle  of  imparting  a  little  to  a  great  many,  instead  of  teaching  a 
great  deal  to  a  few.  —  EDITOR. 


THECHAINBEARER.  21 

My  connection  with  the  army  aided  materially  in  wean 
ing  me  from  home,  though  few  youths  had  as  many  tempta 
tions  to  return  to  the  paternal  roof  as  myself.  There  were 
my  beloved  mother  and  my  grandmother,  in  the  first  place, 
both  of  whom  doted  on  me  as  on  an  only  son.  Then  aunt 
Mary  almost  equally  shared  in  my  affections.  But,  I  had 
two  sisters,  one  of  whom  was  older,  and  the  other  younger 
than  myself.  The  eldest,  who  was  called  Anneke,  after  our 
dear  mother,  was  even  six  years  my  senior,  and  was  married 
early  in  the  war  to  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Kettletas. 
Mr.  Kettletas  was  a  person  of  very  good  estate,  and  made 
my  sister  perfectly  happy.  They  had  several  children,  and 
resided  in  Dutchess,  which  was  an  additional  reason  for  my 
mother's  choosing  that  county  for  her  temporary  residence. 
I  regarded  Anneke,  or  Mrs.  Kettletas,  much  as  all  youths 
regard  an  elder  sister,  who  is  affectionate,  feminine  and  re 
spectable  ;  but  little  Katrinke,  or  Kate,  was  my  pet.  She, 
again,  was  four  years  younger  than  myself;  and  as  I  was 
just  two-and-twenty  when  the  army  was  disbanded,  she  of 
course  was  only  eighteen.  This  dear  sister  was  a  little, 
jumping,  laughing,  never-quiet,  merry  thing,  when  I  had 
taken  my  leave  of  her,  in  1781,  to  join  the  regiment  as  an 
ensign,  as  handsome  and  sweet  as  a  rose-bud,  and  quite  as 
full  of  promise.  I  remember  that  old  Andries  and  I  used 
to  pass  much  of  our  time  in  camp,  in  conversing  about  our 
several  pets ;  he  of  his  niece,  and  I  of  my  younger  sister. 
Of  course,  I  never  intended  to  marry,  but  Kate  and  I  were 
to  live  together ;  she  as  my  housekeeper  and  companion, 
and  I  as  her  elder  brother  and  protector.  The  one  great 
good  of  life  with  us  all  was  peace,  with  independence ;  which 
obtained,  no  one,  in  our  regiment  at  least,  was  so  little  of  a 
patriot  as  to  doubt  of  the  future.  It  was  laughable  to  see 
with  how  much  gusto  and  simplicity  the  old  Chainbearer 
entered  into  all  these  boyish  schemes.  His  niece  was  an 
orphan,  it  would  seem,  the  only  child  of  an  only  but  a  half- 
sister,  and  was  absolutely  dependent  on  him  for  the  bread 
she  put  into  her  mouth.  It  j^  true  that  this  niece  fared 
somewhat  better  than  such  a  support  would  seem  to  pro 
mise,  having  been  much  cared  for  by  a  female  friend  of  her 
mother's,  who,  being  reduced  herself,  kept  a  school,  and 
had  thus  bestowed  on  her  ward  a  far  better  education  than 


22  THE     CHAIN  BEAKER. 

she  could  ever  have  got  under  her  uncle's  supervision,  had 
the  last  possessed  the  riches  of  the  Van  Rensselears,  or  of 
the  Van  Cortlandts.  As  has  been  substantially  stated,  old 
Andries'  forte  did  not  lie  in  education,  and  they  who  do  not 
enjoy  the  blessings  of  such  a  character,  seldom  duly  appre 
ciate  their  advantages.  It  is  with  the  acquisitions  of  the 
mind,  as  with  those  of  mere  deportment  and  the  tastes ;  we 
are  apt  to  undervalue  them  all,  until  made  familiarly  ac 
quainted  with  their  power  to  elevate  and  to  enlarge.  But 
the  niece  of  Andries  had  been  particularly  fortunate  in 
falling  into  the  hands  she  had ;  Mrs.  Stratton  having  the 
means  and  the  inclination  to  do  all  for  her,  in  the  way  of 
instruction,  that  was  then  done  for  any  young  woman  in 
New  York,  as  long  as  she  lived.  The  death  of  this  kind 
friend  occurring,  however,  in  1783,  Andries  was  obliged  to 
resume  the  care  of  his  niece,  who  was  now  thrown  entirely 
on  himself  for  support.  It  is  true,  the  girl  wished  to  do 
something  for  herself,  but  this  neither  the  pride  nor  the 
affection  of  the  old  Chainbearer  would  listen  to. 

"  What  can  the  gal  do?"  Andries  said  to  me  significantly, 
one  day  that  he  was  recounting  all  these  particulars.  "  She 
can't  carry  chain,  though  I  do  believe,  Morty,  the  chilt 
has  head  enough,  and  figures  enough  to  survey  !  It  would 
do  your  heart  good  to  read  the  account  of  her  1'arnin'  t'at 
t'e  olt  woman  used  to  send  me ;  though  she  wrote  so  ex 
cellent  a  hant  herself,  t'at  it  commonly  took  me  a  week  to 
read  one  of  her  letters ;  that  is,  from  '  Respected  Friend'  to 
'  Humble  Sarvent,'  as  you  know  them  'ere  t'ings  go." 

"Excellent  hand!  Why,  I  should  think,  Andries,  the 
better  the  hand,  the  easier  one  could  read  a  letter." 

"  All  a  mistake.  When  a  man  writes  a  scrawl  himself, 
it 's  nat'ral  he  shoult  read  scrawls  easiest,  in  his  own  case. 
Now,  Mrs.  Stratton  was  home-taught,  and  would  be  likely 
to  get  into  ways  t'at  a  plain  man  might  find  difficult  to  get 
along  wit'." 

"  Do  you  think,  then,  of  making  a  surveyor  of  your 
niece  ?"  I  asked,  a  little  pointedly. 

"  Why,  she  is  hartly*trong  enough  to  travel  t'rough 
the  wools,  and  the  call  in'  is  not  suitaple  to  her  sex,  t'ough 
I  woult  risk  her  against  t'e  oldest  calculator  in  t'e  pro- 


THECHAINBEARER.  23 

"  We  call  New  York  a  State,  now,  captain  Andries,  you 
will  be  so  good  as  to  remember." 

"  Ay,  t'at's  true,  and  I  peg  the  State's  parton.  Well, 
t'ere  '11  be  scrampling  enough  for  t'e  land,  as  soon  as  the 
war  is  fairly  over,  and  chainbearing  will  be  a  sarviceable 
callin',  once  more.  Do  you  know,  Morty,  they  talk  of 
gifin'  all  of  our  line  a  quantity  of  land,  privates  and  officers, 
which  will  make  me  a  lantholter  again,  the  very  character 
in  which  I  started  in  life.  You  will  inherit  acres  enough, 
and  may  not  care  so  much  apout  owning  a  few  hundret, 
more  or  less,  but  I  own  the  idee  is  agreeaple  enough  to 
me." 

"Do  you  propose  to  commence  anew,  as  a  husband 
man  ?" 

"  Not  I ;  the  pusiness  never  agreet  wit'  me,  or  I  wit'  it. 
Put  a  man  may  survey  his  own  lot,  I  suppose,  and  no  offence 
to  greater  scholars.  If  I  get  t'e  grant  t'ey  speak  of,  I  shall 
set  to  work  and  run  it  out,  on  my  own  account,  and  t'en 
we  shall  see  who  understants  figures,  and  who  don't !  If 
other  people  won't  trust  me,  it  is  no  reason  I  shoult  not 
trust  myself." 

I  knew  that  his  having  broken  down  in  the  more  intellec 
tual  part  of  his  calling  was  a  sore  point  with  old  Andries, 
and  I  avoided  dwelling  on  this  part  of  the  subject.  In  order 
to  divert  his  mind  to  other  objects,  indeed,  I  began  to  ques 
tion  him  a  little  more  closely  than  I  had  ever  done  before, 
on  the  subject  of  his  niece,  in  consequence  of  which  expe 
dient  I  now  learned  many  things  that  were  new  to  me. 

The  name  of  the  Chainbearer's  niece  was  Duss  Malbone, 
or  so  he  always  pronounced  it.  In  the  end,  I  discovered 
that  Duss  was  a  sort  of  Dutch  diminutive  for  Ursula.  Ursula 
Malbone  had  none  of  the  Coejemans  blood  in  her,  notwith 
standing  she  was  Andries'  sister's  daughter.  It  seemed  that 
old  Mrs.  Coejemans  was  twice  married,  her  second  husband 
being  the  father  of  Duss'  mother.  Bob  Malbone,  as  the 
Chainbearer  always  called  the  girl's  father,  was  an  eastern 
man,  of  very  good  family,  but  was  a  reckless  spendthrift, 
who  married  Duss  the  senior,  as  well  as  I  could  learn,  for 
her  property ;  all  of  which,  as  well  as  that  he  had  inherited 
himself,  was  cleverly  gotten  rid  of  within  the  first  ten  years 
of  their  union,  and  a  year  or  two  after  the  girl  was  born> 


24  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

Both  father  and  mother  died  within  a  few  months  of  each 
other,  and  in  a  very  happy  moment  as  regarded  worldly 
means,  leaving  poor  little  JDuss  with  no  one  to  care  for  her 
but  her  half-uncle,  who  was  then  living  in  the  forest,  in  his 
regular  pursuits,  and  the  Mrs.  Stratton  I  have  mentioned. 
There  was  a  half-brother,  Bob  .Malbone  having  married 
twice,  but  he  was  in  the  army,  and  had  some  near  female 
relation  to  support  out  of  his  pay.  Between  the  Chainbearer 
and  Mrs.  Stratton,  with  an  occasional  offering  from  the  bro 
ther,  the  means  of  clothing,  nourishing  and  educating  the 
young  woman  had  been  found,  until  she  reached  her  eigh 
teenth  year,  when  the  death  of  her  female  protector  threw 
her  nearly  altogether  on  the  care  of  her  uncle.  The  brother 
now  did  his  share,  Andries  admitted  ;  but  it  was  not  much 
that  he  could  do.  A  captain  himself,  his  scanty  pay  barely 
sufficed  to  meet  his  own  wants. 

I  could  easily  see  that  old  Andries  loved  Duss  better  than 
anything  else,  or  any  other  person.  When  he  was  a  little 
mellow,  and  that  was  usually  the  extent  of  his  debaucheries, 
he  would  prate  about  her  to  me,  until  the  tears  came  into 
his  eyes,  and  once  he  actually  proposed  that  I  should  marry 
her. 

"  You  woult  just  suit  each  other,"  the  old  man  added,  in 
a  very  quaint,  but  earnest  manner,  on  that  memorable  oc 
casion  ;  "  and  as  for  property,  I  know  you  care  little  for 
money,  and  will  have  enough  for  half-a-tozen.  I  swear  to 
you,  captain  Littlepage," — for  this  dialogue  took  place  only 
a  few  months  before  we  were  disbanded,  and  after  I  had 
obtained  a  company, — "  I  swear  to  you,  captain  Littlepage, 
t'e  girl  is  laughing  from  morning  till  night,  and  would  make 
one  of  the  merriest  companions,  for  an  olt  soltier  that  ever 
promiset « to  honour  and  opey.'  Try  her  once,  lad,  and  see 
if  I  teceive  you." 

"  That  may  do  well  enough,  friend  Andries,  for  an  old 
soldier,  whereas  you  will  remember  I  am  but  a  boy  in 
years " 

"  Ay,  in  years ;  but  olt  as  a  soltier,  Morty — olt  as  White 
Plains,  or  '76;  as  I  know  from  hafin'  seen  you  unter 
fire." 

"  Well,  be  it  se ;  but  it  is  the  man,  and  not  the  soldier, 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  25 

who  is  to  do  the  marrying,  and  I  am  still  a  very  young 
man." 

"  You  might  do  worse,  take  my  word  for  it,  Mcxtaunt, 
my  dear  poy ;  for  Duss  is  fun  itself,  and  I  have  often  spoken 
of  you  to  her,  in  a  way  t'at  will  make  the  courtship  as  easy 
as  carrying  a  chain,  on  t'«  Jarmen  Flatts." 

I  assured  my  friend  Andries  that  I  did  not  think  of  a  wife 
yet,  and  that  my  taste  ran  for  a  sentimental  and  melancholy 
young  woman,  rather  than  for  a  laughing  girl.  The  old 
Chainbearer  took  this  repulse  good-humouredly,  though  he 
renewed  the  attack  at  least  a  dozen  times,  before  the  regi 
ment  was  disbanded,  and  we  finally  separated.  I  say  finally 
separated,  though  it  was  in  reference  to  our  companionship 
as  soldiers,  rather  than  to  our  future  lives ;  for  I  had  deter 
mined  to  give  Andries  employment  myself,  should  nothing 
better  offer  in  his  behalf. 

Nor  was  I  altogether  without  the  means  of  thus  serving  a 
friend,  when  the  inclination  existed.  My  grandfather,  Her 
man  Mordaunt,  had  left  me,  to  come  into  possession  on 
reaching  the  age  of  twenty-one,  a  considerable  estate,  in 
what  is  now  Washington  county,  a  portion  of  our  territory 
that  lies  north-east  from  Albany,  and  at  no  great  distance 
from  the  Hampshire  Grants.  This  property,  of  many  thou 
sands  of  acres  in  extent,  had  been  partially  settled,  under 
leases,  by  himself,  previously  to  my  birth,  and  those  leases 
having  mostly  expired,  the  tenants  were  remaining  at  will, 
waiting  for  more  quiet  times  to  renew  their  engagements. 
As  yet,  Ravensnest,  for  so  the  estate  was  called,  had  given 
the  family  little  besides  expense  and  trouble ;  but  the  land 
being  good,  and  the  improvements  considerable,  it  was  time 
to  look  for  some  returns  for  all  our  outlays.  This  estate 
was  now  mine  in  fee,  my  father  having  formally  relinquish 
ed  its  possession  in  my  favour  the  day  I  attained  my  majo 
rity.  Adjacent  to  this  estate  lay  that  of  Mooseridge,  which 
was  the  joint  property  of  my  father  and  of  his  friend  major, 
or  as  he  was  styled  in  virtue  of  the  brevet  rank  granted  at 
the  peace,  colonel  Pollock.  Mooseridge  had  been  originally 
patented  by  my  grandfather,  the  first  general  Littlepage, 
and  old  colonel  Pollock,  he  who  had  been  slain  and  scalped 
early  in  the  war ;  but,  on  the  descent  of  his  moiety  of  the 
tenantry  in  common  to  Dirck  Pollock,  my  grandfather  con- 


26  THE     CHAIN  BEARER. 

veyed  his  interest  to  his  own  son,  who,  ere  long,  must  be- 
come  its  owner,  agreeably  to  the  laws  of  nature.  This 
property  had  once  been  surveyed  into  large  lots,  but  owing 
to  some  adverse  circumstances,  and  the  approach  of  the 
troubles,  it  had  never  been  settled,  or  surveyed  into  farms. 
All  that  its  owners  ever  got  for  it,  therefore,  was  the  privi 
lege  of  paying  the  crown  its  quit-rents ;  taxes,  or  reserved 
payments  of  no  great  amount,  it  is  true,  though  far  more 
than  the  estate  had  ever  yet  returned. 

While  on  the  subject  of  lands  and  tenements,  I  may  as 
well  finish  my  opening  explanations.  My  paternal  grandfather 
was  by  no  means  as  rich  as  my  father,  though  the  senior, 
and  of  so  much  higher  military  rank.  His  property,  or 
neck,  of  Satanstoe,  nevertheless,  was  quite  valuable  ;  more 
for  the  quality  of  the  land  and  its  position,  than  for  its -ex 
tent.  In  addition  to  this,  he  had  a  few  thousand  pounds  at 
interest;  stocks,  banks,  and  monied  corporations  of  all 
kinds,  being  then  nearly  unknown  among  us.  His  means 
were  sufficient  for  his  wants,  however,  and  it  was  a  joyful 
day  when  he  found  himself  enabled  to  take  possession  of 
his  own  house  again,  in  consequence  of  Sir  Guy  Carleton's 
calling  in  all  of  his  detachments  from  VVestchester.  The 
Morrises,  distinguished  whigs  as  they  were,  did  not  get  back 
to  Morrisania  until  after  the  evacuation,  which  took  place 
November  25,  1783 ;  nor  did  my  father  return  to  Lilacs- 
bush  until  after  that  important  event.  The  very  year  my 
grandfather  saw  Satanstoe,  he  took  the  smallpox  in  camp, 
and  died. 

To  own  the  truth,  the  place  found  us  all  very  poor,  as 
was  the  case  with  almost  everybody  in  the  country  but  a 
few  contractors.  It  was  not  the  contractors  for  the  Ameri 
can  army  that  were  rich ;  they  fared  worse  than  most  peo 
ple  ;  but  the  few  who  furnished  supplies  to  the  French  did 
get  silver  in  return  for  their  advances.  As  for  the  army,  it 
was  disbanded  without  any  reward  but  promises,  and  pay 
ment  in  a  currency  that  depreciated  so  rapidly  that  men 
were  glad  to  spend  recklessly  their  hard-earned  stock  lest 
it  should  become  perfectly  valueless  in  their  hands.  I  have 
heard  much,  in  later  years,  of  the  celebrated  Newburgh 
Letters,  and  of  the  want  of  patriotism  that  could  lead  to 
their  having  been  written.  It  may  not  have  been  wise,  con- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  27 

sidering  the  absolute  want  of  the  country,  to  have  contem 
plated  the  alternative  towards  which  those  letters  certainly 
cast  an  oblique  glance,  but  there  was  nothing  in  either  their 
execution,  or  their  drift,  which  was  not  perfectly  natural  for 
ihe  circumstances.  It  was  quite  right  for  Washington  to 
act  as  he  did  in  that  crisis,  though  it  is  highly  probable  that 
even  Washington  would  have  felt  and  acted  differently,  had 
he  nothing  but  the  keen  sense  of  his  neglected  services, 
poverty  and  forgetfulness,  before  him,  in  the  perspective. 
As  for  the  young  officer  who  actually  wrote  the  letters,  it  is 
probable  that  justice  will  never  be  done  to  any  part  of  his 
conduct,  but  that  which  is  connected  with  the  elegance  of 
his  diction.  It  is  very  well  for  those  who  do  not  suffer  to 
prate  about  patriotism ;  but  a  country  is  bound  to  be  just, 
before  it  can  lay  a  high  moral  claim  to  this  exclusive  devo- 
tedness  to  the  interests  of  the  majority.  Fine  words  cost 
but  little,  and  I  acknowledge  no  great  respect  for  those  who 
manifest  their  integrity  principally  in  phrases.  This  is  said 
not  in  the  way  of  personal  apology,  for  our  regiment  did 
not  happen  to  be  at  Newburgh,  at  the  disbandment ;  if  it 
had,  I  think  my  father's  influence  would  have  kept  us  from 
joining  the  malcontents ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I  fancy  his 
and  my  own  patriotism  would  have  been  much  strengthened 
by  the  knowledge  that  there  were  such  places  as  Satanstoe, 
Lilacsbush,  Mooseridge  and  Ravensnest.  To  return  to  the 
account  of  our  property. 

My  grandfather  Mordaunt,  notwithstanding  his  handsome 
bequests  to  me,  left  the  bulk  of  his  estate  to  my  mother. 
This  would  have  made  the  rest  of  the  family  rich,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  dilapidations  produced  by  the  war.  But 
the  houses  and  stores  in  town  were  without  tenants  who 
paid,  having  been  mainly  occupied  by  the  enemy ;  and  in 
terest  on  bonds  was  hard  to  collect  from  those  who  lived 
within  the  British  lines. 

In  a  word,  it  is  not  easy  to  impress  on  the  mind  of  one 
who  witnesses  the  present  state  of  the  country,  its  actual 
condition  in  that  day.  As  an  incident  that  occurred  to  my 
self,  after  I  had  regularly  joined  the  army  for  duty,  vill 
afford  a  lively  picture  of  the  state  of  things,  I  will  relate  it, 
and  this  the  more  willingly,  as  it  will  be  the  means  of  in 
troducing  to  the  reader  an  old  friend  of  the  family,  and  ono 
who  was  intimately  associated  with  divers  events  of  my 


28  THECHAINBEARER. 

own  life.  I  have  spoken  of  Jaaf,  a  slave  of  my  father's, 
and  one  of  about  his  own  time  of  life.  At  the  time  to  which 
I  allude,  Jaaf  was  a  middle-aged,  grey-headed  negro,  with 
most  of  the  faults,  and  with  all  the  peculiar  virtues  of  the 
beings  of  his  condition  and  race.  So  much  reliance  had 
my  mother,  in  particular,  on  his  fidelity,  that  she  insisted 
on  his  accompanying  her  husband  to  the  wars,  an  order 
that  the  black  most  willingly  obeyed ;  not  only  because  he 
loved  adventure,  but  because  he  especially  hated  an  Indian, 
and  my  father's  earliest  service  was  against  that  portion  of 
our  foes.  Although  Jaaf  acted  as  a  body-servant,  he  car 
ried  a  musket,  and  even  drilled  with  the  men.  Luckily,  the 
Littlepage  livery  was  blue  turned  up  with  red,  and  of  a  very 
modest  character ;  a  circumstance  that  almost  put  Jaaf  in 
uniform,  the  fellow  obstinately  refusing  to  wear  the  colours 
of  any  power  but  that  of  the  family  to  which  he  regularly 
belonged.  In  this  manner,  Jaaf  had  got  to  be  a  queer  mix 
ture  of  the  servant  and  the  soldier,  sometimes  acting  in  the 
one  capacity,  and  sometimes  in  the  other,  having  at  the 
same  time  not  a  little  of  the  husbandman  about  him ;  for 
our  slaves  did  all  sorts  of  work. 

My  mother  had  made  it  a  point  that  Jaaf  should  accom 
pany  me,  on  all  occasions  when  I  was  sent  to  any  distance 
from  my  father.  She  naturally  enough  supposed  I  had  the 
most  need  of  the  care  of  a  faithful  attendant,  and  the  black 
had  consequently  got  to  be  about  half  transferred  to  me. 
He  evidently  liked  this  change,  both  because  it  was  always 
accompanied  by  change  of  scene  and  the  chances  for  new 
adventures,  and  because  it  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  re 
lating  many  of  the  events  of  his  youth  ;  events  that  had  got 
to  be  worn  threadbare,  as  narratives,  with  his  "ole  masser," 
but  which  were  still  fresh  with  his  "  young." 

On  the  occasion  to  which  there  is  allusion,  Jaaf  and  I 
were  returning  to  camp,  from  an  excursion  of  some  length, 
on  which  I  had  been  sent  by  the  general  of  division.  This 
was  about  the  time  the  continental  money  made  its  final  fall 
to  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing,  it  having  long  stood  at  about 
a  hundred  dollars  for  one.  I  had  provided  myself  with  a 
little  silver,  and  very  precious  it  was,  and  some  thirty  or 
forty  thousand  dollars  of  "  continental,"  to  defray  my  tra 
velling  expenses;  but,  my  silver  was  expended,  and  the 
paper  reduced  to  two  or  three  thousand  dollars,  when  it 


THE    CHAINBEABER.  ^9 

would  require  the  whole  stock  of  the  latter  to  pay  for  Jaaf'a 
and  my  own  dinner ;  nor  were  the  innkeepers  very  willing 
to  give  their  time  and  food  for  it  at  any  price.  This  vacuum 
in  my  purse  took  place  when  I  had  still  two  long  days'  ride 
before  me,  and  in  a  part  of  the  country  where  I  had  no  ac 
quaintances  whatever.  Supper  and  rest  were  needed  for 
ourselves,  and  provender  and  stabling  for  our  horses.  Every 
thing  of  the  sort  was  cheap  enough  to  be  sure,  but  absolute 
want  of  means  rendered  the  smallest  charge  impracticable 
to  persons  in  our  situation.  As  for  appealing  to  the  pa 
triotism  of  those  who  lived  by  the  way-side,  it  was  too  late 
in  the  war ;  patriotism  being  a  very  evanescent  quality  of 
the  human  heart,  and  particularly  addicted  to  sneaking,  like 
compassion,  behind  some  convenient  cover,  when  it  is  to  be 
maintained  at  any  pecuniary  cost.  It  will  do  for  a  capital, 
in  a  revolution,  or  a  war  for  the  first  six  months  perhaps ; 
but  gets  to  be  as  worthless  as  continental  money  itself,  by 
the  end  of  that  period.  One  militia  draft  has  exhausted  the 
patriotism  of  thousands  of  as  disinterested  heroes  as  ever 
shouldered  muskets. 

"  Jaap" — I  asked  of  my  companion,  as  we  drew  near  to 
the  hamlet  where  I  intended  to  pass  the  night,  and  the  com 
forts  of  a  warm  supper  on  a  sharp  frosty  evening,  began  to 
haunt  my  imagination — "  Jaap,  how  much  money  may  you 
have  about  you  ?"* 

"  I,  Masser  Mordaunt !  —  Golly !  but  dat  a  berry  droll 
question,  sah !" 

"  I  ask,  because  my  own  stock  is  reduced  to  just  one 
York  shilling,  which  goes  by  the  name  of  only  a  ninepence 
.in  this  part  of  the  world." 

"  Dat  berry  little,  to  tell  'e  trut',  sah,  for  two  gentleum, 
and  two  large,  hungry  bosses.  Berry  little,  indeed,  sah ! 
I  wish  he  war'  more." 

"  Yet,  I  have  not  a  copper  more.  I  gave  one  thousand 
two  hundred  dollars  for  the  dinner  and  baiting  and  oats, 
at  noon." 

"  Yes,  sah  —  but,  dat  conternental,  sah,  I  supposes  —  no 
great  t'ing,  a'ter  all." 

*  This  man  is  indiscriminately  called  Yaf,  or  Yop  —  York  Dutch 
being  far  from  severe. 

3* 


30  THBCHAINBBARER. 

"It's  a  great  thing  in  sound,  Jaap,  but  not  much  when 
it  comes  to  the  teeth,  as  you  perceive.  Nevertheless,  we 
must  eat  and  drink,  and  our  nags  must  eat  too  —  I  suppose 
they  may  drink,  without  paying." 

"  Yes,  sah  —  dat  true  'nough,  yah  —  yah  —  yah" — how 
easily  that  negro  laughed  !  —  "  But  'e  cider  wonnerful  good 
in  dis  part  of  'e  country,  young  masser ;  just  needer  sweet 
nor  sour  —  den  he  strong  as  'e  jackass." 

"  Well,  Jaap,  how  are  we  to  get  any  of  this  good  cider, 
of  which  you  speak  ?" 

"  You  t'ink,  sah,  dis  part  of  'e  country  been  talk  to  much 
lately  'bout  Patty  Rism  and  'e  country,  sah  ?" 

"  I  am  afraid  Patty  has  been  overdone  here,  as  well  as  in 
most  other  counties." 

I  may  observe  here,  that  Jaap  always  imagined  the  beau 
tiful  creature  he  had  heard  so  much  extolled,  and  com 
mended  for  her  comeliness  and  virtue,  was  a  certain  young 
woman  of  this  name,  with  whom  all  congress  was  unac 
countably  in  love  at  the  same  time. 

"  Well,  den,  sah,  dere  no  hope,  but  our  wits.  Let  me  be 
masser  to-night,  and  you  mind  ole  Jaap,  if  he  want  good 
supper.  Jest  ride  ahead,  Masser  Mordaunt,  and  give  he 
order  like  general  Littlepage  son,  and  leave  it  all  to  ole 
Jaap." 

As  there  was  not  much  to  choose,  I  did  ride  on,  and  soon 
ceased  to  hear  the  hoofs  of  the  negro's  horse  at  my  heels. 
I  reached  the  inn  an  hour  ere  Jaap  appeared,  and  was 
actually  seated  at  a  capital  supper  before  he  rode  up,  as  one 
belonging  only  to  himself.  Jaap  had  taken  off  the  Little- 
page  emblems,  and  had  altogether  a  most  independent  air. 
His  horse  was  stabled  alongside  of  mine,  and  I  soon  found 
that  he  himself  was  at  work  on  the  remnants  of  my  supper, 
as  they  retreated  towards  the  kitchen. 

A  traveller  of  my  appearance  was  accommodated  with 
the  best  parlour,  as  a  matter  of  course;  and,  having  ap 
peased  my  appetite,  I  sat  down  to  read  some  documents 
that  were  connected  with  the  duty  I  was  on.  No  one  could 
have  imagined  that  I  had  only  a  York  shilling,  which  is  a 
Pennsylvania  "  levy,"  or  a  Connecticut  "  ninepence,"  in 
my  purse ;  for  my  air  was  that  of  one  who  could  pay  for 
all  he  wanted  •  the  certainty  that,  in  the  long  run,  my  host 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  31 

could  not  be  a  loser,  giving  me  a  proper  degree  of  confidence. 
I  had  just  got  through  with  the  documents,  and  was  thinking 
how  I  should  employ  the  hour  or  two  that  remained  until 
it  would  be  time  to  go  to  bed,  when  I  heard  Jaap  tuning  his 
fiddle  in  the  bar-room.  Like  most  negroes,  the  fellow  had 
an  ear  for  music,  and  had  been  indulged  in  his  taste,  until 
he  played  as  well  as  half  the  country  fiddlers  that  were  to 
be  met. 

The  sound  of  a  fiddle  in  a  small  hamlet,  of  a  cool  October 
evening,  was  certain  of  its  result.  In  half  an  hour,  the 
smiling  landlady  came  to  invite  me  to  join  the  company, 
with  the  grateful  information  I  should  not  want  for  a  part 
ner,  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  place  having  come  in  late,  and 
being  still  unprovided  for.  On  entering  the  bar-room,  I  was 
received  with  plenty  of  awkward  bows  and  curtsies,  but  with 
much  simple  and  well-meaning  hospitality.  Jaap's  own 
salutations  were  very  elaborate,  and  altogether  of  a  charac 
ter  to  prevent  the  suspicion  of  our  ever  having  met  before. 

The  dancing  continued  for  more  than  two  hours  with 
spirit,  when  the  time  admonished  the  village  maidens  of  the 
necessity  of  retiring.  Seeing  an  indication  of  the  approach 
ing  separation,  Jaap  held  out  his  hat  to  me,  in  a  respectful 
manner,  when  I  magnificently  dropped  my  shilling  into  it, 
in  a  way  to  attract  attention,  and  passed  it  round  among 
the  males  of  the  party.  One  other  gave  a  shilling,  two 
clubbed  and  actually  produced  a  quarter,  several  threw  in 
sixpences,  or  fourpence-halfpennies,  and  coppers  made  up 
the  balance.  By  way  of  climax,  the  landlady,  who  was 
good-looking  and  loved  dancing,  publicly  announced  that 
the  fiddler  and  his  horse  should  go  scot  free,  until  he  left 
the  place.  By  these  ingenious  means  of  Jaap's,  I  found  in 
my  purse  next  morning  seven-and-sixpence  in  silver,  in  ad 
dition  to  my  own  shilling,  besides  coppers  enough  to  keep  a 
negro  in  cider  for  a  week. 

I  have  often  laughed  over  Jaap's  management,  though  I 
would  not  permit  him  to  repeat  it.  Passing  the  house  of  a 
man  of  better  condition  than  common,  I  presented  myself  to 
its  owner,  though  an  entire  stranger  to  him,  and  told  him 
my  story.  Without  asking  any  other  confirmation  than  my 
word,  this  gentleman  lent  me  five  silver  dollars,  which  an- 


32  THECIIAINBEARER. 

swered  all  my  present  purposes,  and  which,  I  trust,  it  ia 
scarcely  necessary  to  say,  were  duly  repaid. 

It  was  a  happy  hour  to  me  when  I  found  myself  a  titular 
major,  but  virtually  a  freeman,  and  at  liberty  to  go  where  I 
pleased.  The  war  had  offered  so  little  of  variety  or  adven 
ture,  since  the  capture  of  Cornwallis  and  the  pendency  of 
the  negotiations  for  peace,  that  I  began  to  tire  of  the  army ; 
and  now  that  the  country  had  triumphed,  was  ready  enough 
to  quit  it.  The  family,  that  is  to  say,  my  grandmother, 
mother,  aunt  Mary  and  my  youngest  sister,  took  possession 
of  Satanstoe  in  time  to  enjoy  some  of  its  delicious  fruits,  in 
the  autumn  of  1782 ;  and  early  in  the  following  season, 
after  the  treaty  was  signed,  but  while  the  British  still  re 
mained  in  town,  my  mother  was  enabled  to  return  to  Lilacs- 
bush.  As  consequences  of  these  early  movements,  my 
father  and  myself,  when  we  joined  the  two  families,  found 
things  in  a  better  state  than  might  otherwise  have  been  the 
case.  The  Neck  was  planted,  and  had  enjoyed  the  advan 
tage  of  a  spring's  husbandry,  while  the  grounds  of  Lilacs- 
bush  had  been  renovated  and  brought  in  good  condition,  by 
the  matured  and  practised  taste  of  my  admirable  mother. 
And  she  was  admirable,  in  all  the  relations  of  life  !  A  lady 
in  feeling  and  habits,  whatever  she  touched  or  controlled 
imbibed  a  portion  of  her  delicacy  and  sentiment.  Even  the 
inanimate  things  around  her  betrayed  this  feature  of  their 
connection  with  one  of  her  sex's  best  qualities.  I  remember 
that  colonel  Dirck  Pollock  remarked  to  me  one  day  that  we 
had  been  examining  the  offices  together,  something  that  was 
very  applicable  to  this  trait  in  my  mother's  character,  while 
it  was  perfectly  just. 

"  No  one  can  see  Mrs.  Littlepage's  kitchen,  even,"  he 
said,  "  alt'ough  she  never  seems  to  enter  it,  without  per 
ceiving," —  or  '  perceifing,'  as  he  pronounced  the  word, — 
ft  that  it  is  governed  by  a  lady.  There  are  plenty  of  kitchens 
that  are  as  clean,  and  as  large,  and  as  well  furnished,  but  it 
is  not  common  to  see  a  kitchen  that  gives  the  same  ideas 
of  a  good  taste  in  the  table,  and  about  the  household." 

If  this  was  true  as  to  the  more  homely  parts  of  the  habi 
tation,  how  much  truer  was  it  when  the  distinction  was 
carried  into  the  superior  apartments  !  There,  one  saw  my 
mother  in  person,  and  surrounded  by  those  appliances  which 


THE     CHAIN  II  BARER.  33 

denote  refinement,  without,  however,  any  of  that  elaborate 
luxury  of  which  we  read  in  older  countries.  In  America, 
we  had  much  fine  china,  and  a  good  deal  of  massive  plate, 
regular  dinner-services  excepted,  previously  to  the  revolu 
tion,  and  my  mother  had  inherited  more  than  was  usual  of 
both  ;  but  the  country  knew  little  of  that  degree  of  domestic 
indulgence  which  is  fast  creeping  in  among  us,  by  means 
of  its  enormously  increased  commerce. 

Although  the  fortunes  of  the  country  had  undergone  so 
much  waste,  during  seven  years  of  internal  warfare,  the 
elasticity  of  a  young  and  vigorous  nation  soon  began  to  re 
pair  the  evil.  It  is  true  that  trade  did  not  fully  revive,  nor 
its  connecting  interests  receive  their  great  impulse,  until 
after  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution,  which  brought  the 
States  under  a  set  of  common  custom-house  regulations ; 
nevertheless,  one  year  brought  about  a  manifest  and  most 
beneficent  change.  There  was  now  some  security  in  making 
shipments,  and  the  country  immediately  felt  the  conse 
quences.  The  year  1784  was  a  sort  of  breathing  time  for 
the  nation,  though  long  ere  it  was  past  the  bone  and  sinew 
of  the  republic  began  to  make  themselves  apparent  and  felt. 
Then  it  was  that,  as  a  people,  this  community  first  learned 
the  immense  advantage  it  had  obtained  by  controlling  its 
own  interests,  and  by  treating  them  as  secondary  to  those 
of  no  other  part  of  the  world.  This  was  the  great  gain  of 
all  our  labours. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  He  tells  her  something, 

That  makes  her  blood  look  out ;  good  sooth,  she  ia 
The  queen  of  curds  and  cream." 

;  .v  '     Winter's  Tale. 

HAPPY,  happy  Lilacsbush  !  Never  can  I  forget  the  de- 
iight  with  which  I  roamed  over  its  heights  and  glens,  and 
how  I  rioted  in  the  pleasure  of  feeling  I  was  again  a  sort 
of  master  in  those  scenes  which  had  been  the  haunts  of  my 
boyhood!  I/  was  in  the  spring  of  1784  before  I  was  folded 


34  THECHAINBEARER. 

to  the  arms  of  my  mother ;  and  this,  too,  after  a  separation 
of  near  two  years.  Kate  laughed,  and  wept,  and  hugged 
me,  just  as  she  would  have  done  five  years  earlier,  though 
she  was  now  a  lovely  young  woman,  turned  of  nineteen. 
As  for  aunt  Mary,  she  shook  hands,  gave  me  a  kind  kiss  or 
two,  and  smiled  on  me  affectionately,  in  her  own  quiet, 
gentle  manner.  The  house  was  in  a  tumult,  for  Jaap  re 
turned  with  me,  his  wool  well  sprinkled  with  grey,  and  there 
were  lots  of  little  Satanstoes  (for  such  was  his  family  name, 
notwithstanding  Mrs.  Jaap  called  herself  Miss  Lilacsbush) 
children  and  grandchildren  to  welcome  him.  To  say  the 
truth,  the  house  was  not  decently  tranquil  for  the  first 
twenty-four  hours. 

At  *the  end  of  that  time,  I  ordered  my  horse  to  ride  across 
the  country  to  Satanstoe,  in  order  to  visit  my  widowed 
grandmother,  who  had  resisted  all  attempts  to  persuade  her 
to  give  up  the  cares  of  housekeeping,  and  to  come  and  live 
at  Lilacsbush.  The  general,  for  so  everybody  now  called 
my  father,  did  not  accompany  me,  having  been  at  Satanstoe 
a  day  or  two  before  ;  but  my  sister  did.  As  the  roads  had 
been  much  neglected  in  the  war,  we  went  in  the  saddle, 
Kate  being  one  of  the  most  spirited  horsewomen  of  my  ac 
quaintance.  By  this  time,  Jaap  had  got  to  be  privileged, 
doing  just  such  work  as  suited  his  fancy ;  or,  it  might  be 
better  to  say,  was  not  of  much  use  except  in  the  desultory 
employments  that  had  so  long  been  his  principal  pursuits ; 
and  he  was  sent  off  an  hour  or  two  before  we  started  our 
selves,  to  let  Mrs.  Littlepage,  or  his  "  ole — ole  missus,"  as 
the  fellow  always  called  my  grandmother,  know  whom  she 
was  to  expect  to  dinner. 

I  have  heard  it  said  that  there  are  portions  of  the  world 
in  which  people  get  to  be  so  sophisticated,  that  the  nearest 
of  kin  cannot  take  such  a  liberty  as  this.  The  son  will  not 
presume  to  take  a  plate  at  the  table  of  the  father  without 
observing  the  ceremony  of  asking,  or  of  being  asked !  Hea 
ven  be  praised !  we  have  not  yet  reached  this  pass  in  Ame 
rica.  What  parent,  or  grandparent,  to  the  remotest  living 
generation,  would  receive  a  descendant  with  anything  but  a 
smile,  or  a  welcome,  let  him  come  when  and  how  he  will. 
If  there  be  not  room,  or  preparation,  the  deficiencies  must 
be  made  up  in  welcomes ;  or,  when  absolute  impossibilities 


THECHAINBEARER.  35 

interpose,  if  they  are  not  overcome  by  means  of  a  quick  in 
vention,  as  most  such  "  impossibilities"  are,  the  truth  is 
frankly  told,  and  the  pleasure  is  deferred  to  a  more  fortu 
nate  moment.  It  is  not  my  intention  to  throw  a  vulgar  and 
ignorant  jibe  into  the  face  of  an  advanced  civilization,  as  is 
too  apt  to  be  the  propensity  of  ignorance  and  provincial 
habits ;  for  I  well  know  that  most  of  the  usages  of  those 
highly  improved  conditions  of  society  are  founded  in  reason, 
and  have  their  justification  in  a  cultivated  common  sense ; 
but,  after  all,  mother  nature  has  her  rights,  and  they  are 
not  to  be  invaded  too  boldly,  without  bringing  with  the  acts 
themselves  their  merited  punishments. 

It  was  just  nine,  on  a  fine  May  morning,  when  Kate 
Littlepage  and  myself  rode  through  the  outer  gate  of  Lilacs- 
bush,  and  issued  upon  the  old,  well-known,  Kingsbridge 
road.  Kings-bridge  I  That  name  still  remains,  as  do  those 
of  the  counties  of  Kings  and  Queens,  and  Duchess,  to  say 
nothing  of  quantities  of  Princes  this  and  that,  in  other  States  ,* 
and  I  hope  they  always  may  remain,  as  so  many  landmarks 
in  our  history.  These  .names  are  all  that  now  remain  among 
us  of  the  monarchy  ;  and  yet  have  I  heard  my  father  say  a 
hundred  times,  that  when  a  young  man,  his  reverence  for 
the  British  throne  was  second  only  to  his  reverence  for  the 
church.  In  how  short  a  time  has  this  feeling  been  changed 
throughout  an  entire  nation ;  or,  if  not  absolutely  changed, 
for  some  still  continue  to  reverence  monarchy,  how  widely 
and  irremediably  has  it  been  impaired !  Such  are  the  things 
of  the  world,  perishable  and  temporary  in  their  very  na 
tures  ;  and  they  would  do  well  to  remember  the  truth,  who 
have  much  at  stake  in  such  changes. 

We  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  inn  at  Kingsbridge  to  say 
good  morning  to  old  Mrs.  Light,  the  landlady,  who  had  now 
kept  the  house  half  a  century,  and  who  had  known  us,  and 
our  parents  before  us,  from  childhood.  This  loquacious 
housewife  had  her  good  and  bad  points,  but  habit  had  given 
her  a  sort  of  claim  on  our  attentions,  and  I  could  not  pass 
her  door  without  drawing  the  rein,  if  it  were  only  for  a  mo 
ment.  This  was  no  sooner  done,  than  the  landlady,  in 
person,  was  on  her  threshold  to  greet  us. 

"  Ay,  I  dreamt  this,  Mr.  Mordaunt,"  the  old  woman  ex 
claimed,  the  instint  she  saw  me  —  "I  dreamt  this,  no  later 


36  T  II  EC  II  MN  HEARER. 

than  last  week !    It  is  nonsense  to  deny  it ;  dreams  do  often 
come  true  !" 

"  And  what  has  been  your  dream  this  time,  Mrs.  Light  ?" 
I  asked,  well  knowing  it  was  to  come,  and  the  sooner  we 
got  it  the  better. 

"  I  dreamt  the  general  had  come  home  last  fall,  and  he 
had  come  home !  Now,  the  only  idee  I  had  to  help  out 
'that  dream  was  a  report  that  he  was  to  be  home  that  day ; 
but  you  know,  Mr.  Mordaunt,  or  major  Littlepage  they  tell 
me  I  ought  now  to  call  you — but,  you  know,  Mr.  Mordaunt, 
how  often  reports  turn  out  to  be  nothing.  I  count  a  report 
as  no  great  help  to  a  dream.  So  last  week,  I  dreamed  you 
would  certainly  be  home  this  week ;  and  here  you  are,  sure 
enough  !" 

"  And  all  without  any  lying  report  to  help  you,  my  good 
landlady  ?" 

'•  Why,  no  great  matter ;  a  few  flying  rumours,  perhaps ; 
but  as  I  never  believe  them  when  awake,  it 's  onreasonable 
to  suppose  a  body  would  believe  'em  when  asleep.  Yes, 
Jaaf  stopped  a  minute  to  water  his  horse  this  morning,  and 
I  foresaw  from  that  moment  my  dream  would  come  to  be 
true,  though  I  never  exchanged  a  word  with  the  nigger." 

"  That  is'  a  little  remarkable,  Mrs.  Light,  as  I  supposed 
you  always  exchanged  a  few  words  with  your  guests." 

"  Not  with  the  blacks,  major ;  it  is  apt  to  make  'em  sassy. 
Sassiness  in  a  nigger  is  a  thing  I  can't  abide,  and  therefore 
I  keep  'em  all  at  a  distance.  Well,  the  times  that  I  have 
seen,  major,  since  you  went  off  to  the  wars  !  and  the  changes 
we  have  had  !  Our  clergyman  don't  pray  any  longer  for 
the  king  and  queen — no  more  than  if  there  wasn't  sich  peo 
ple  living !" 

"  Not  directly,  perhaps,  but  as  part  of  the  church  of  God, 
I  trust.  We  all  pray  for  congress,  now." 

"  Well,  I  hope  good  will  come  out  of  it !  I  must  say, 
major,  that  His  Majesty's  officers  spent  more  freely,  and 
paid  in  better  money,  than  the  continental  gentlemen.  I  've 
had  'em  both  here,  by  rijjiments,  and  that 's  the  character  I 
must  give  'em,  in  honesty." 

"  You  will  remember  they  were  richer,  and  had  more 
money  trmn  our  people.  It  is  easy  for  the  rich  to  appear 
liberal." 


THECHAINBEARER.  37 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,  sir,  and  you  ought,  and  do  know  it, 
too.  The  Littlepages  are  rich,  and  always  have  been,  and 
they  are  liberal  too.  Lord  bless  your  smiling,  pretty  faces ! 
I  knowed  your  family  long  afore  you  knowed  it  yourselves 
I  know'd  old  captain  Hugh  Roger,  your  great-grand'ther, 
and  the  old  general,  your  grand'ther,  and  now  I  know  the 
young  general,  and  you !  Well,  this  will  not  be  the  last  of 
you,  I  dares  to  say,  and  there  '11  be  light  hearts,  and  happy 
ones  among  the  Bayards,  I  '11  answer  for  it,  now  the  wars 
are  over,  and  young  major  Littlepage  has  got  back !" 

This  terminated  the  discourse ;  for,  by  this  time,  I  had 
enough  of  it ;  and  making  my  bow,  Kate  and  I  rode  on. 
Still,  I  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  last  speech  of  the 
old  woman,  and  most  of  all  with  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
uttered.  The  name  of  Bayard  was  well  known  among  us, 
belonging  to  a  family  of  which  there  were  several  branches 
spread  through  the  Middle  States,  as  far  south  as  Delaware; 
but  I  did  not  happen  to  know  a  single  individual  of  them  all. 
What,  then,  could  my  return  have  to  do  with  the  smiles  or 
frowns  of  any  of  the  name  of  Bayard?  It  was  natural 
enough,  after  ruminating  a  minute  or  two  on  the  subject, 
that  I  should  utter  some  of  my  ideas,  on  such  a  subject,  to 
my  companion. 

"  What  could  the  old  woman  mean,  Kate,"  I  abruptly 
commenced,  "  by  saying  there  would  now  be  light  hearts 
and  happy  ones  among  the  Bayards  ?" 

"  Poor  Mrs.  Light  is  a  great  gossip,  Mordaunt,  and  it 
may  be  questioned  if  she  know  her  own  meaning  half  the 
time.  All  the  Bayards  we  know  are  the  family  at  the 
Hickories ;  and  with  them,  you  have  doubtless  heard,  my 
mother  has  long  been  intimate." 

"  I  have  heard  nothing  about  it,  child.  All  I  know  is 
that  there  is  a  place  called  the  Hickories,  up  the  river  a  few 
miles,  and  that  it  belongs  to  some  of  the  Bayards ;  but  I 
never  heard  of  any  intimacy.  On  the  contrary,  I  remember 
to  have  heard  that  there  was  a  lawsuit  once,  between  my 
grandfather  Mordaunt  and  some  old  Bayard  or  other  ;  and 
I  thought  we  were  a  sort  of  hereditary  strangers." 

"  That  is  quite  forgotten,  and  my  mother  says  it  all  arose 
from  a  mistake.     We  are  decided  friends  now." 
4 


38  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it ;  for,  since  it  is 
peace,  let  us  have  peace ;  though  old  enemies  are  not  apt  to 
make  very  decided  friends." 

"  But  we  never  were — that  is,  my  grandfather  never  was 
an  enemy  of  anybody ;  and  the  whole  matter  was  amicably 
settled  just  before  he  went  to  Europe,  on  his  unfortunate 
visit  to  Sir  Harry  Bulstrode.  No — no — my  mother  will  tell 
you,  Mordaunt,  that  the  Littlepages  and  the  Bayards  now 
regard  each  other  as  very  decided  friends." 

Kate  spoke  with  so  much  earnestness  that  I  was  disposed 
to  take  a  look  at  her.  The  face  of  the  girl  was  flushed,  and 
I  fancy  she  had  a  secret  consciousness  of  the  fact ;  for  she 
turned  it  from  me  as  if  gazing  at  some  object  in  the  opposite 
direction,  thereby  preventing  me  from  seeing  much  of  it. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  learn  all  this,"  I  answered,  a  little 
drily.  "  As  I  am  a  Littlepage,  it  would  have  been  awkward 
not  to  have  known  it,  had  I  accidentally  met  with  one  of 
these  Bayards.  Does  the  peace  include  all  of  the  name,  or 
only  those  of  the  Hickories  ?" 

Kate  laughed  ;  then  she  was  pleased  to  tell  me  that  I  was 
to  consider  myself  the  friend  of  all  of  the  name. 

"  And  most  especially  of  those  of  the  name  who  dwell  at 
the  Hickories  ?" 

"  How  many  may  there  be  of  this  especially  peaceful 
breed  ? — six,  a  dozen,  or  twenty  ?" 

"  Only  four ;  so  your  task  will  make  no  very  heavy  de 
mand  on  your  affections.  Your  heart  has  room,  I  trust,  for 
four  more  friends  ?" 

"  For  a  thousand,  if  I  can  find  them,  my  dear.  I  can 
accept  as  many  friends  as  you  please,  but  have  places  for 
none  else.  All  the  other  niches  are  occupied." 

"  Occupied  !  —  I  hope  that  is  not  true,  Mordaunt.  One 
place,  at  least,  is  vacant." 

"  True ;  I  had  forgotten  a  place  must  be  reserved  for  the 
brother  you  will,  one  day,  give  me.  Well,  name  him,  as 
soon  as  you  please ;  I  shall  be  ready  to  love  Aim,  child." 

"  I  may  never  make  so  heavy  a  draft  on  your  affections. 
Anneke  has  given  you  a  brother  already,  and  a  very  ex- 
cellent  one  he  is,  and  that  ought  to  satisfy  a  reasonable 
man." 


THE     CHAIN  BEARER.  39 

"  Ay,  so  all  you  young  women  say  between  fifteen  and 
twenty,  but  you  usually  change  your  mind  in  the  end.  The 
sooner  you  tell  me  who  the  youth  is,  therefore,  the  sooner  I 
shall  begin  to  like  him  —  is  he  one  of  these  Bayards  ?  —  un 
chevalier  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche  ?" 

Kate  had  a  brilliant  complexion,  in  common ;  but,  as  1 
now  turned  my  eyes  towards  her  inquiringly,  more  in  mis 
chief,  however,  than  with  the  expectation  of  learning  any 
thing  new,  I  saw  the  roses  of  her  cheeks  expand  until  they 
covered  her  temples.  The  little  beaver  she  wore,  and  which 
became  her  amazingly,  did  not  suffice  to  conceal  these 
blushes,  and  I  now  really  began  to  suspect  I  had  hit  on  a 
vein  that  was  sensitive.  But,  my  sister  was  a  girl  of  spirit, 
and,  though  it  was  no  difficult  thing  to  make  her  change 
colour,  it  was  by  no  means  easy  to  look  her  down. 

"  I  trust  your  new  brother,  Mordaunt,  should  there  ever 
be  such  a  person,  will  be  a  respectable  man,  if  not  abso 
lutely  without  reproach,"  she  answered.  "  But,  if  there  be 
a  Tom  Bayard,  there  is  also  a  Pris.  Bayard,  his  sister." 

"  So  —  so  —  this  is  all  news  to  me,  indeed  !  As  to  Mr. 
Thomas  Bayard,  I  shall  ask  no  questions,  my  interest  in 
him,  if  there  is  to  be  any,  being  altogether  ex  officio,  as  one 
may  say,  and  coming  as  a  matter  of  course ;  but  you  will 
excuse  me  if  I  am  a  little  curious  on  the  subject  of  Miss 
'Priscilla  Bayard,  a  lady,  you  will  remember,  I  never  saw." 

My  eye  was  on  Kate  the  whole  time,  and  I  fancied  she 
looked  gratified,  though  she  still  looked  confused. 

"  Ask  what  you  will,  brother — Priscilla  Bayard  can  bear 
a  very  close  examination." 

"  In  the  first  place,  then,  did  that  old  gossip  allude  to 
Miss  Priscilla,  by  saying  there  would  be  light  hearts  and 
happy  ones  among  the  Bayards  ?" 

"  Nay,  I  cannot  answer  for  poor  Mrs.  Light's  conceits. 
Put  your  questions  in  some  other  form." 

"  Is  there  much  intimacy  between  the  people  of  the  'Bush 
and  those  of  the  Hickories  ?" 

"  Great  —  we  like  them  exceedingly ;  and  I  think  they 
like  us." 

"  Does  this  intimacy  extend  to  the  young  folk,  or  is  it 
confined  to  the  old  ?" 


40  THECHAINBEARER. 

"  That  is  somewhat  personal,"  said  Kate,  laughing,  "  as 
I  happen  to  be  the  only  *  young  folk'  at  the  'Bush,  to  main 
tain  the  said  intimacy.  As  there  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of,  however,  but,  on  the  contrary,  much  of  which  one  may 
be  proud,  I  shall  answer  that  it  includes  'all  ages  and  both 
sexes;'  everybody  but  yourself,  in  a  word." 

«  And  you  like  old  Mr.  Bayard?" 

"  Amazingly." 

"  And  old  Mrs.  Bayard  ?" 

"  She  is  a  very  agreeable  person,  and  an  excellent  wife 
and  mother." 

"  And  you  love  Pris.  Bayard  ?" 

"  As  the  apple  of  mine  eye,"  the  girl  answered,  with  em 
phasis. 

"  And  you  like  Tom  Bayard,  her  brother  ?" 

'*  As  much  as  is  decent  and  proper  for  one  young  woman 
to  like  the  brother  of  another  young  woman,  whom  she  ad 
mits  that  she  loves  as  the  apple  of  her  eye." 

Although  it  was  not  easy,  at  least  not  easy  for  me,  to 
cause  Kate  Littlepage  to  hold  her  tongue,  it  was  not  easy 
for  her  to  cause  the  tell-tale  blood  always  to  remain  sta 
tionary.  She  was  surprisingly  beautiful  in  her  blushes,  and 
as  much  like  what  I  had  often  fancied  my  dear  mother  might 
have  been  in  her  best  days  as  possible,  at  the  very  moment, 
she  was  making  these  replies,  as  steadily  as  if  they  gave  her 
no  trouble. 

"  How  is  all  this,  then,  connected  with  rejoicings  among 
the  people  of  the  Hickories,  at  my  return?  Are  you  the 
betrothed  of  Tom  Bayard,  and  have  you  been  waiting  for 
my  return  to  give  him  your  hand?" 

"  I  am  not  the  betrothed  of  Tom  Bayard,  and  have  not 
been  waiting  for  your  return  to  give  him  my  hand,"  an 
swered  Kate,  steadily.  "  As  for  Mrs.  Light's  gossippings, 
you  cannot  expect  me  to  explain  them.  She  gets  her  reports 
from  servants,  and  others  of  that  class,  and  you  know  what 
such  reports  are  usually  worth.  But,  as  for  my  waiting  for 
your  return,  brother,  in  order  to  announce  such  an  event, 
you  little  know  how  much  I  love  you,  if  you  suppose  I  would 
do  any  such  thing." 

Kate  said  this  with  feeling,  and  I  thanked  her  with  my 
eyes,  but  could  not  have  spoken,  and  did  not  speak,  until 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  41 

we  had  ridden  some  distance.     After  this  pause,  I  renewed 
the  discourse  with  some  of  its  original  spirit. 

"  On  that  subject,  Katrinke,  dear,"  I  said,  "  I  trust  we 
understand  each  other.  Single,  or  married,  you  will  ever 
be  very  dear  to  me ;  and  I  own  I  should  be  hurt  to  be  one 
of  the  last  to  learn  your  engagement,  whenever  that  may 
happen.  And,  now  for  this  Pris.  Bayard  —  do  you  expect 
me  to  like  her  ?" 

"  Do  I !  It  would  be  one  of  the  happiest  moments  of  my 
life,  Mordaunt,  when  I  could  hear  you  acknowledge  that 
you  love  her !" 

This  was  uttered  with  great  animation,  and  in  a  way  to 
show  that  my  sister  was  very  much  in  earnest.  I  felt  some 
surprise  when  I  put  this  feeling  in  connection  with  the  land 
lady's  remarks,  and  began  to  suspect  there  might  be  some 
thing  behind  the  curtain  worthy  of  my  knowledge.  In  order 
to  make  discoveries,  however,  it  was  necessary  to  pursue  the 
discourse. 

"  Of  what  age  is  Miss  Bayard  ?"  I  demanded. 

"She  is  two  months  my  senior  —  very  suitable,  is  it 
not?" 

"  I  do  not  object  to  the  difference,  which  will  do  very 
well.  Is  she  accomplished  ?" 

"  Not  very.  You  know  few  of  us  girls  who  have  been 
educated  during  the  revolution,  can  boast  of  much  in  that 
way ;  though  Priscilla  is  better  than  common." 

"  Than  of  her  class,  you  mean,  of  course  7" 

"  Certainly  —  better  than  most  young  ladies  of  our  best 
families." 

"  Is  she  amiable  ?" 

"  As  Anneke,  herself!" 

This  was  saying  a  great  deal,  our  eldest  sister,  as  often 
happens  in  families,  being  its  paragon  in  the  way  of  all  the 
virtues,  and  Anneke's  temper  being  really  serenity  itself. 

"  You  give  her  a  high  character,  and  one  few  girls  could 
sustain.  Is  she  sensible  and  well-informed  ?" 

"  Enough  so  as  often  to  make  me  feel  ashamed  of  myself. 
She  has  an  excellent  mother,  Mordaunt ;  and  I  have  heard 
you  say,  often,  that  the  mother  would  have  great  influence 
with  you  in  choosing  a  wife." 
4* 


42  THECHAINBEARER. 

"  That  must  have  been  when  I  was  very  young,  child, 
and  before  I  went  to  the  army,  where  we  look  more  at  the 
young  than  at  the  old  women.  But,  why  a  wife  1 — Is  it  all 
settled  between  the  old  people,  that  I  am  to  propose  to  this 
Priscilla  Bayard,  and  are  you  a  party  to  the  scheme  ?" 

Kate  laughed  with  all  her  heart,  but  I  fancied  she  looked 
conscious. 

"  You  make  no  answer,  young  lady,  and  you  must  per 
mit  me  to  remind  you  that  there  is  an  express  compact  be 
tween  you  and  me  to  treat  each  other  frankly  on  all  occa 
sions.  This  is  one  on  which  I  especially  desire  to  see  the 
conditions  of  the  treaty  rigidly  enforced.  Does  any  such 
project  exist  ?" 

"  Not  as  a  project,  discussed  and  planned — no — certainly 
not.  No,  a  thousand  times,  no.  But,  I  shall  run  the  risk 
of  frustrating  one  of  my  most  cherished  hopes,  by  saying, 
honestly,  that  you  could  not  gratify  my  dear  mother,  aunt 
Mary,  and  myself,  more  than  by  falling  in  love  with  Pris. 
Bayard.  We  all  love  her  ourselves,  and  we  wish  you  to  be 
of  the  party,  knowing  that  your  love  would  probably  lead 
to  a  connection  we  should  all  like,  more  than  I  can  express. 
There ;  you  cannot  complain  of  a  want  of  frankness,  for  I 
have  heard  it  said,  again  and  again,  that  the  wishes  of 
friends,  indiscreetly  expressed,  are  very  apt  to  set  young 
men  against  the  very  person  it  is  desired  to  make  them  ad 
mire." 

"  Quite  likely  to  be  true  as  a  rule,  though  in  my  case  no 
effect,  good  or  bad,  will  be  produced.  But,  how  do  the 
Bayards  feel  in  this  matter?" 

"  How  should  I  know ! — Of  course,  no  allusion  has  ever 
been  made  to  any  of  the  family  on  the  subject;  and,  as  none 
of  them  know  you,  it  is  im — that  is,  no  allusion — I  mean — 
certainly  not  to  more  than  one  of  them.  I  believe  some 
vague  remarks  may  have  been  ventured  to  one — but — " 

"  By  yourself,  and  to  your  friend,  Pris.  ?" 

"  Never11 — said  Kate,  with  emphasis.  "  Such  a  subject 
could  never  be  mentioned  between  us." 

"  Then  it  must  have  been  between  the  old  ladies  —  the 
two  mothers,  probably  ?" 

"  I  should  think  not.  Mrs.  Bayard  is  a  woman  of  re 
serve,  and  mamma  has  an  extreme  sense  of  propriety,  as  you 


THECHAINBEARER.  43 

know  yourself,  that  would  not  be  likely  to  permit  such  a 
thing." 

"  Would  the  general  think  of  contracting  me,  when  my 
back  was  turned !" 

"  Not  he  —  papa  troubles  himself  very  little  about  such 
things.  Ever  since  his  return  home,  he  has  been  courting 
mamma  over  again,  he  tells  us." 

"  Surely,  aunt  Mary  has  not  found  words  for  such  an 
allusion !" 

"  She,  indeed !  Poor,  dear  aunt  Mary ;  it  is  little  she 
meddles  with  any  one's  concerns  but  her  own.  Do  you 
know,  Mordaunt,  that  mamma  has  told  me  the  whole  of  hei 
story  lately,  and  the  reason  why  she  has  refused  so  many 
excellent  offers.  I  dare  say,  if  you  ask  her,  she  will  tell 
you." 

"  I  know  the  whole  story  already,  from  the  general,  child. 
But,  if  this  matter  has  been  alluded  to,  to  one  of  the  Bayards, 
and  neither  my  father,  mother,  nor  aunt  Mary,  has  made 
the  allusion  on  our  side,  and  neither  Mr.  Bayard,  his  wife 
nor  daughter,  has  been  the  party  to  whom  the  allusion  has 
been  made  on  the  other,  there  remains  only  yourself  and 
Tom  to  hold  the  discourse.  I  beg  you  to  explain  this  point 
with  your  customary  frankness." 

Kate  Littlepage's  face  was  scarlet.  She  was  fairly  caught, 
though  I  distrusted  the  truth  from  the  moment  she  so  stam 
mered  and  hesitated  in  correcting  her  first  statement.  I 
will  own  I  enjoyed  the  girl's  confusion,  it  made  her  appear 
so  supremely  lovely ;  and  I  was  almost  as  proud  of  her,  as 
I  tenderly  loved  her.  Dear,  dear  Kate ;  from  her  childhood 
I  had  my  own  amusement  with  her,  though  I  do  not  remem 
ber  anything  like  a  harsh  expression,  or  an  unkind  feeling, 
that  has  ever  passed,  or  indeed  existed,  between  us.  A 
finer  study  than  the  face  of  my  sister  offered  for  the  next 
minute,  was  never  presented  to  the  eye  of  man ;  and  I  en 
joyed  it  so  much  the  more,  from  a  strong  conviction  that, 
while  so  deeply  confused,  she  was  not  unhappy.  Native 
ingenuousness,  maiden  modesty,  her  habit  of  frank  dealing 
with  me,  and  a  wish  to  continue  so  to  deal,  were  all  strug 
gling  together  in  her  fine  countenance,  forming  altogether 
one  of  the  most  winning  pictures  of  womanly  feelings  I  had 
ever  witnessed.  At  length,  the  love  of  fair-dealing,  and  love 


44  THIS    CHAINBEARER. 

of  me,  prevailed  over  a  factitious  shame ;  the  colour  settled 
back  to  those  cheeks  whence  it  had  appeared  to  flash,  as  it 
might  be,  remaining  just  enough  heightened  to  be  remarked, 
and  Kate  looked  towards  me  in  a  way  that  denoted  all  the 
sisterly  confidence  and  regard  that  she  actually  felt. 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  be  the  one  to  communicate  to  you  a 
fact,  Mordaunt,  in  which  I  know  you  will  feel  a  deep  in 
terest,  for  I  had  supposed  my  mother  would  save  me  the 
confusion  of  telling  it  to  you ;  but,  now,  there  is  no  choice 
between  resorting  to  equivocations  that  I  do  not  like,  and 
using  our  old  long-established  frankness." 

"  The  long  and  short  of  which,  my  dear  sister,  is  to  say 
that  you  are  engaged  to  Mr.  Bayard !" 

"  No ;  not  as  strong  as  that,  brother.  Mr.  Bayard  has 
offered,  and  my  answer  is  deferred  until  you  have  met  him. 
I  would  not  engage  myself,  Mordaunt,  until  you  approved 
of  my  choice." 

"  I  feel  the  compliment,  Katrinke,  and  will  be  certain  to 
repay  it,  in  kind.  Depend  on  it,  you  shall  know,  in  proper 
season,  when  it  is  my  wish  to  marry,  and  shall  be  heard." 

"  There  is  a  difference  between  the  claims  of  an  elder 
and  an  only  brother,  and  of  a  mere  girl,  who  ought  to  place 
much  dependence  on  the  advice  of  friends,  in  making  her 
own  selection." 

"  You  will  not  be  a  *  mere  girl'  when  that  time  comes, 
but  a  married  woman  yourself,  and  competent  to  give  good 
counsel  from  your  own  experience.  To  return  to  Tom, 
however ;  he  is  the  member  of  his  family  to  whom  the  allu 
sion  was  made  ?" 

"  He  was,  Mordaunt,"  answered  Kate,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  And  you  were  the  person  who  made  it  ?" 

"  Very  true  —  we  were  talking  of  you,  one  day ;  and  I 
expressed  a  strong  hope  that  you  would  see  Priscilla  with 
the  eyes  with  which,  I  can  assure  you,  all  the  rest  of  your 
family  see  her.  That  was  all." 

"  And  that  was  quite  enough,  child,  to  cause  Tom  Bayard 
to  hang  himself,  if  he  were  a  lover  of  the  true  temper." 

"  Hang  himself,  brother !  I  am  sure  I  do  not  understand 
why?" 

"  Oh !  merely  at  the  palpable  discouragement  such  a  wish 
would  naturally  convey  to  the  brother  of  the  young  lady 


THECIIAINBEARER.  45 

jsince  he  must  have  seen  you  were  willing  to  connect  the 
two  families  by  means  other  than  giving  him  your  own 
hand." 

Kate  laughed ;  but,  as  she  did  not  look  much  confused, 
or  at  all  alarmed,  I  was  induced  to  believe  that  more  im 
portant  encouragement  than  could  be  afforded  by  means  of 
her  wish  of  marrying  me  to  her  suitor's  sister,  had  been 
given  master  Tom,  and  that  my  disapproval  of  the  gentle 
man  would  cause  her  more  concern  than  she  chose  to  avow. 
We  rode  on,  however,  some  little  distance,  without  cither's 
offering  to  renew  the  discourse.  At  length,  as  became  my 
sex,  I  spoke. 

"  When  am  I  to  see  this  paragon  young  man,  and  para 
gon  young  woman,  Kate,  since  see  both  I  must?" 

"  Not  paragon  young  man,  brother ;  I  am  certain  I  have 
called  him  by  no  such  name  !  Tom  Bayard  is  a  good  fellow; 
but  I  do  not  know  he  is,  by  any  means,  a  paragon." 

"  He  is  a  good  looking  fellow,  in  the  bargain,  I  take  it  for 
granted  ?" 

"  Not  as  much  so  as  you  are  yourself,  if  that  will  gratify 
your  vanity." 

"  It  ought  to,  coming  from  such  a  quarter.  My  question 
>s  still  unanswered,  notwithstanding." 

"  To  own  the  truth  to  you,  Mordaunt,  I  expect  we  shall 
find  Tom  Bayard  and  Pris  at  Satanstoe,  to  dine  with  my 
grandmother.  She  wrote  me  word,  a  day  or  two  since,  that 
both  are  asked,  and  that  she  hoped  both  would  accept." 

"  The  old  lady  is  then  in  the  plot,  and  intends  to  marry 
me,  will  ye,  nill  ye  1  I  had  thought  this  visit  altogether  a 
scheme  of  my  own  !" 

Kate  again  laughed,  and  told  me  I  might  make  my  own 
observations  on  that  point,  and  judge  for  myself.  As  for 
the  visit,  I  had  only  accidentally  favoured  a  project  of  other's. 
The  conversation  now  changed,  and  for  several  miles  we 
rode  along,  conversing  of  the  scenes  of  the  war,  without 
adverting  to  the  Bayards,  or  to  marriages. 

We  were  within  half  a  mile  of  the  gate  of  the  Neck,  and 
within  a  mile  of  the  house,  when  we  met  Jaap  returning  to 
Lilacsbush,  and  carrying  some  fruit  to  my  mother,  after 
having  discharged  his  commission  of  an  avant  courier. 
From  Kate's  remark  I  had  discovered  we  had  been  invited 


46  THE     CHAIN  BEARER. 

by  letter  to  take  this  excursion,  though  the  ceremony  of 
sending  the  negro  across  with  his  message  had  been  ob 
served  for  reasons  that  were  not  very  natural  under  the 
circumstances.  I  made  no  remark,  however,  determining 
to  see  and  judge  for  myself. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  we  drew  our  reins,  and  stopped  to 
exchange  a  few  words  with  the  black. 

"  Well,  Jaap,  how  did  the  Neck  look,  after  so  long  an 
absence  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  It  look,  sah,  no  means  as  well  as  ole  Missus,  who  do 
look  capital,  for  sich  a  lady !  Dey  do  won'ers  with  'e  Neck, 
sah,  if  you  just  b'lieve  all  young  nigger  say.  But,  what 
you  t'ink,  Masser  Mordy,  I  hear  at  'e  tavern,  where  I  jist 
stop,  sah,  to  water  ole  Dick  ?" 

"  And  to  get  a  sup  of  cider  for  old  Jaap"  —  hereupon  the 
negro  laughed  heartily,  though  he  had  the  impudence  nei 
ther  to  own  nor  to  deny  the  imputation,  his  weakness  in 
favour  of  wring-jaw  being  a  well-established  failing — "Well, 
what  did  you  hear,  while  taking  down  the  usual  mug?" 

"  I  on'y  get  half  a  mug  dis  time,  sah ;  ole,  ole  Missus 
nebber  forgettin'  to  gib  me  jist  as  much  as  I  want.  Well, 
sah,  while  ole  Dick  drink,  'e  new  landlady,  who  come  from 
Connetick,  you  know,  sah,  she  say  to  me,  « Where  you  go, 
ole  colour'  gentleum  ?'  Dat  war'  civil,  any  how." 

"  To  which  you  answered " 

"  I  answer  her,  sah,  and  say  I  go  to  Satanstoe,  whar'  I 
come  from,  long  time  'go." 

"Whereupon,  she  made  some  observation  or  other  — 
Well,  what  was  it  ? — You  keep  Miss  Littlepage  waiting." 

"  Lor'  bless  her,  sah  —  it  my  business  to  wait  on  Miss 
Katrinke,  not  her  business  to  wait  on  me — Why  you  speak 
so  droll,  now,  Masser  Mordy?" 

"  Never  mind  all  that,  Jaap  —  what  did  the  new  Connec 
ticut  lady  say,  when  you  told  her  you  were  going  to  Sa 
tanstoe,  the  place  where  you  had  come  from,  a  long  time 
ago?" 

"What  she  say,  Masser  Mordy,  sah?  —  She  say  great 
foolishness,  and  make  me  mad.  *  What  you  call  by  dat  awful 
name?'  she  say,  making  face  like  as  if  she  see  a  spook. 
*  You  must  mean  Dibbleton,'  she  say  —  *dat  'e  way  all  'e 


THECHAINBEARER.  47 

people  as  is  genteel  call  'e  Neck  !'     Did  you  ebber  hear  'o 
like,  sah  1" 

"  Oh  !  yes ;  I  heard  the  like  of  it,  as  soon  as  I  was  born ; 
the  attempt  to  change  the  name  of  our  old  place  having 
existed,  now,  these  thirty  years.  Why,  some  people  call 
Hellgate,  Hurlgate ;  after  that,  one  may  expect  anything. 
Do  you  not  know,  Jaap,  a  Yankee  is  never  satisfied,  unless 
he  is  effecting  changes  ?  One  half  his  time,  he  is  altering 
the  pronunciation  of  his  own  names,  and  the  other  half  he 
is  altering  ours.  Let  him  call  the  place  what  he  will,  you 
and  I  will  stick  to  Satanstoe." 

"  Dat  we  will,  sah  —  gib  'e  debbil  his  due,  sah ;  dat  an 
ole  sayin'.  I  'm  sure  anybody  as  has  eyes,  can  see  where 
his  toe  hab  turn  up  'e  sile,  and  shape  it  he  own  way  —  no 
dibble  dere,  sah." 

Thus  saying,  Jaap  rode  on,  my  sister  and  myself  doing 
the  same,  pursuing  the  discourse  that  had  thus  accidentally 
arisen  among  us. 

"  Is  it  not  odd,  brother,  that  strangers  should  have  this 
itching  to  alter  the  name  of  my  grandmother's  place  ?"  said 
Kate,  after  we  had  parted  from  the  black.  "  It  is  a  homely 
name,  certainly ;  but  it  has  been  used,  now,  a  good  deal 
more  than  a  century,  and  time,  at  least,  should  entitle  it  to 
be  let  alone." 

"  Ay,  my  dear ;  but  you  are  not  yet  aware  of  the  de 
sires,  and  longings,  and  efforts,  and  ambition  of  a  '  little 
learning.'  I  have  seen  enough,  in  my  short  career,  to  know 
there  is  a  spirit  up  among  us,  that  calls  itself  by  the  pre 
tending  title  of  the  '  spirit  of  improvement,'  which  is  likely 
to  overturn  more  important  things  than  the  name  of  our 
poor  Neck.  It  is  a  spirit  that  assumes  the  respectable  cha 
racter  of  a  love  of  liberty ;  and  under  that  mask,  it  gives 
play  to  malice,  envy,  covetousness,  rapacity,  and  all  the 
lowest  passions  of  our  nature.  Among  other  things,  it  takes 
the  provincial  pretence  of  a  mock-refinement,  and  flatters 
an  elegance  of  thought  that  is  easiest  attained  by  those  who 
have  no  perceptions  of  anything  truly  elevated,  by  substi 
tuting  squeamishness  and  affectations  for  the  simplicity  of 
nature,  and  a  good  tone  of  manners," 


48  THE    CHAINBEARER. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Beet.  *'  Against  my  will,  I  am  sent  to  bid  you  come  in  to  dinner." 
Bene.  "  Fair  Beatrice,  I  thank  you  for  your  pains." 
Beat.  "  I  took  no  more  pains  for  these  thanks,  than 

You  take  pains  to  thank  me ;  if  it  had  been  painful, 

I  would  not  have  come." 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

IN  the  porch  of  the  house,  at  Satanstoe,  stood  my  dear 
grandmother,  and  the  notable  Tom  Bayard,  to  receive  us. 
The  first  glance  at  the  latter  told  me  that  he  was  a  "  proper 
man;"  and  by  the  second,  I  got  the  pleasing  assurance  that 
he  had  no  eye,  just  then,  but  for  Kate.  This  was  pleasant 
to  know,  as  I  never  could  have  been  happy  in  consenting  to 
yield  that  dear  girl  to  any  but  a  man  who  appreciated  her 
worth,  and  fully  admired  her  beauty.  As  to  my  dear  "  ole 
ole"  grandmother,  who  was  not  so  very  old  neither,  being 
still  under  seventy,  her  reception  of  us  was  just  what  I  had 
ever  found  it ;  warm,  affectionate,  and  gentle.  She  called 
my  father,  the  general,  Corny,  even  when  she  spoke  to  him 
in  a  room  full  of  company ;  though,  for  that  matter,  J  have 
heard  my  mother,  who  was  much  more  of  a  woman  of  the 
world,  having  lived  a  great  deal  in  society,  do  the  same 
thing,  when  she  thought  herself  alone.  I  have  read  some 
priggish  book  or  other,  written  no  doubt  by  one  who  knew 
men  only  through  pages  like  his  own,  decry  such  fami 
liarities  ;  but,  I  have  generally  found  those  the  happiest 
families,  and,  at  the  bottom,  the  best  toned,  where  it  was 
Jack,  and  Tom,  and  Bob,  and  Dick,  and  Bess,  and  Di.  As 
for  your  Louisa  Adelinas,  and  Robert  Augustuses,  and  all 
such  elaborate  respect,  I  frankly  declare  I  have  a  contempt 
for  it.  Those  are  the  sort  of  people  who  would  call  Sa 
tanstoe,  Dibbleton  ;  Hellgate,  Hurlgate ;  and  themselves  ac 
complished.  Thank  heaven,  we  had  no  such  nonsense  at 
Lilacsbush,  or  at  the  Neck.  My  father,  was  Corny ;  my 
mother,  Anneke ;  Katrinke,  Kate;  and  I  was  Mordy,  or 
Mord ;  or,  when  there  was  no  hurry,  Mordaunt. 


THECHAINBEARER.  49 

Tom  Bayard  met  my  salutations  frankly,  and  with  a  gen 
tlemanlike  ease,  though  there  was  a  slight  colour  on  his 
cheek  which  said  to  me,  "  I  mean  to  get  your  sister."  Yet 
I  liked  the  fellow's  manner.  There  was  no  grasping  of  the 
hand,  and  coming  forward  to  rush  into  an  intimacy  at  the 
first  moment  we  met ;  but  he  returned  my  bow  graciously, 
and  gracefully,  and  his  smile  as  he  did  so  seemed  to  invite 
farther  and  better  acquaintance. 

Now,  I  have  seen  a  man  cross  a  whole  room  to  shake 
hands  at  an  introduction  with  an  utter  stranger,  and  main 
tain  a  countenance  the  whole  time  as  sombre  as  if  he  were 
condoling  with  him  on  the  loss  of  his  wife.  This  habit  of 
shaking  hands  dolefully  is  growing  among  us,  and  is  im 
ported  from  some  of  our  sister  States  ;  for,  it  is  certainly  not 
a  New  York  custom,  except  among  intimates ;  and  it  is  a 
bad  usage,  in  my  opinion,  as  it  destroys  one  of  the  best 
means  of  graduating  feelings,  and  is  especially  ungraceful 
at  an  introduction.  But,  alas  !  there  are  so  many  such  in 
novations,  that  one  cannot  pretend  to  predict  where  they  are 
to  stop.  I  never  shook  hands  at  an  introduction,  unless  it 
were  under  my  own  roof,  and  when  I  wished  to  denote  a 
decidedly  hospitable  feeling,  until  after  I  was  forty.  It  was 
thought  vulgar  in  my  younger  days,  and  I  am  not  quite 
certain  it  is  not  thought  so  now. 

In  the  little  old-fashioned  drawing-room,  as  of  late  years 
my  good  grandmother  had  been  persuaded  to  call  what  was 
once  only  the  best  parlour,  we  found  Miss  Priscilla  Bayard, 
who,  for  some  reason  that  was  unexplained,  did  not  come 
to  the  porch  to  meet  her  friend.  She  was  in  truth  a  charm 
ing  girl,  with,  fine  dark  eyes,  glossy  hair,  a  delicate  and 
lady-like  form,  and  a  grace  of  manner  that  denoted  perfect 
familiarity  with  the  best  company  of  the  land.  Kate  and 
Pris.  embraced  each  other  with  a  warmth  and  sincerity  that 
spoke  in  favour  of  each,  and  with  perfect  nature.  An  affect 
ed  American  girl,  by  the  way,  is  very  uncommon ;  and 
nothing  strikes  me  sooner,  when  I  see  my  own  countrywo 
men  placed  at  the  side  of  Europeans,  than  the  difference  in 
this  respect ;  the  one  seems  so  natural,  while  the  other  is 
so  artificial ! 

My  own  reception  by  Miss  Bayard  was  gracious,  though 
fancied  it  was  not  entirely  free  from  the  consciousness  of 


50  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

having,  on  some  idle  occasion,  heard  her  own  name 
mately  connected  with  mine.  Perhaps  Kate,  in  their  confi 
dential  moments,  may  have  said  something  to  this  effect ; 
or,  I  may  have  been  mistaken. 

My  grandmother  soon  announced  that  the  whole  party 
was  to  pass  the  night  at  Satanstoe.  As  we  were  accustomed 
to  such  plans,  neither  Kate  nor  myself  raised  the  least  ob 
jection,  while  the  Bayards  submitted  to  orders  which  I  soon 
discovered  even  they  were  not  unused  to,  with  perfect  good 
will  and  submission.  Thus  brought  together,  in  the  fami 
liarity  of  a  quiet  and  small  party,  in  a  country  house,  we 
made  great  progress  in  intimacy ;  and,  by  the  time  dinner 
was  over,  or  by  four  o'clock,  I  felt  like  an  old  acquaintance 
with  those  who  had  so  lately  been  strangers  to  me,  even  by 
name.  As  for  Bayard  and  my  sister,  they  were  in  the  best 
of  humours  from  the  start,  and  I  felt  satisfied  their  affair 
was  a  settled  thing,  in  their  own  minds ;  but,  Miss  Priscilla 
was  a  little  under  constraint  for  an  hour  or  two,  like  a  per 
son  who  felt  a  slight  embarrassment.  This  wore  off,  how 
ever,  and  long  before  we  left  the  table  she  had  become 
entirely  herself;  and  a  very  charming  self  it  was,  I  was 
forced  to  admit.  I  say  forced  ;  for,  spite  of  all  I  had  said, 
and  a  certain  amount  of  good  sense  I  hope,  it  was  impossible 
to  get  rid  of  the  distrust  which  accompanied  the  notion  that 
I  was  expected  to  fall  in  love  with  the  young  lady.  My 
poor  grandmother  contributed  her  share,  too,  to  keep  this 
feeling  alive.  The  manner  in  which  she  looked  from  one 
to  the  other,  and  the  satisfied  smile  that  passed  over  her 
countenance  whenever  she  observed  Pris.  and  myself  con 
versing  freely,  betrayed  to  me  completely  that  she  was  in 
the  secret,  and  had  a  hand  in  what  I  chose  to  regard  as  a 
sort  of  plot. 

I  had  heard  that  my  grandmother  had  set  her  heart  on 
the  marriage  of  my  parents  a  year  or  two  before  matters 
came  round,  and  that  she  always  fancied  she  had  been  very 
instrumental  in  forming  a  connection  that  had  been  as  happy 
as  her  own.  The  recollection,  or  the  fancy  of  this  success, 
most  probably  encouraged  her  to  take  a  share  in  the  present 
scheme ;  and  I  have  always  supposed  that  she  got  us  all 
together  on  that  occasion,  in  order  to  help  the  great  project 
along. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  51 

A  walk  on  the  Neck  was  proposed  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening ;  for  Satanstoe  had  many  a  pleasant  path,  pretty 
vista,  and  broad  view.  Away  we  went,  then,  the  four  of 
us,  Kate  leading  the  way,  as  the*  person  most  familiar  with 
the . "  capabilities."  We  were  soon  on  the  shore  of  the 
Sound,  and  at  a  point  where  a  firm,  wide  beach  of  sand  had 
been  left  by  the  receding  waters,  rocks  fringing  the  inner 
boundary,  towards  the  main.  Here  one  could  walk  without 
confinement  of  any  sort,  there  being  room  to  go  in  pairs,  or 
all  abreast,  as  we  might  choose.  Miss  Bayard  seeming  a 
little  coy,  and  manifesting  a  desire  to  keep  near  her  friend, 
I  abandoned  the  intention  of  walking  at  her  side,  but  fell 
behind  a  little,  and  got  into  discourse  with  her  brother. 
Nor  was  I  sorry  to  have  this  early  opportunity  of  sounding 
the  party  who  was  likely  soon  to  become  so  nearly  con 
nected  with  me.  After  a  few  minutes,  the  conversation 
turned  on  the  late  revolution,  and  the  manner  in  which  it 
was  likely  to  influence  the  future  fortunes  of  the  country. 
I  knew  that  a  portion  of  the  family  of  my  companion  had 
adhered  to  the  crown,  losing  their  estates  by  the  act  of  con 
fiscation  ;  but  I  also  knew  that  a  portion  did  not,  and  I  was 
left  to  infer  that  Tom's  branch  belonged  to  the  latter  divi 
sion  of  his  name,  inasmuch  as  his  father  was  known  to  be 
very  easy  in  his  circumstances,  if  not  absolutely  rich.  It 
was  not  long,  however,  before  I  ascertained  that  my  new 
friend  was  a  mild  tory,  and  Jhat  he  would  have  been  better 
pleased  had  the  rights  we  had  sought,  and  which  he  was 
willing  enough  to  admit  had  been  violated,  been  secured 
without  a  separation  of  the  two  countries.  As  the  Little- 
pages  had  actually  been  in  arms  against  the  orown,  three 
generations  of  them,  too,  at  the  same  time,  and  the  fact 
could  be  no  secret,  I  was  pleased  with  the  candour  with 
which  Tom  Bayard  expressed  his  opinions  on  these  points  ; 
for  it  spoke  well  of  the  truth  and  general  sincerity  of  his 
character. 

"  Does  it  not  strike  you  as  a  necessary  consequence  of 
the  distance  between  the  two  countries,"  I  remarked,  in  the 
course  of  the  conversation,  "  that  a  separation  must,  sooner 
or  later,  have  occurred  ?  It  is  impossible  that  two  countries 
should  long  have  common  rulers  when  they  are  divided  by 
an  ocean.  Admitting  that  our  separation  has  been  a  little 


52  THE    CIIAINBEARER. 

premature,  a  circumstance  I  should  deny  in  a  particular 
discussion,  it  is  an  evil  that  every  hour  has  a  tendency  to 
lessen." 

"  Separations  in  families  are  always  painful,  major  Little- 
page  ;  when  accompanied  by  dissensions,  doubly  so." 

"  Quite  true ;  yet  they  always  happen.  If  not  in  this 
generation,  in  the  next." 

"  I  do  think,"  said  Tom  Bayard,  looking  at  me  a  littlo 
imploringly,  "  that  we  might  have  got  along  with  our  diffi 
culties  without  casting  aside  our  allegiance  to  the  king." 

"  Ay,  that  has  been  the  stumbling-block  with  thousands ; 
and  yet  it  is,  in  truth,  the  very  weakest  part  of  the  trans 
atlantic  side  of  the  question.  Of  what  avail  is  allegiance  to 
the  king,  if  parliament  use  its  power  in  a  way  to  make 
American  interests  subservient  to  those  of  England  ?  A 
great  deal  may  be  said,  that  is  reasonable,  in  favour  of 
kingly  power ;  that  I  am  ready  enough  to  allow ;  but  very 
little  that  renders  one  people  subject  to  another.  This  thing 
called  loyalty  blinds  men  to  facts,  and  substitutes  a  fancied 
for  a  real  power.  The  question  has  been,  whether  England, 
by  means  of  a  parliament  in  which  we  have  no  representa 
tive,  is  to  make  laws  for  us  or  not ;  and  not  whether  George 
III.  is  to  be  our  sovereign,  or  whether  we  are  to  establish 
the  sovereignty  of  the  people."* 

*  [This  short  dialogue  is  given  in  the  text,  because  it  is  found  in 
Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage's  manusc<ipt,  and  not  because  the  state  of 
feeling  in  this  country  to-day  has  any  connection  with  the  opinions 
expressed.  The  American  nation,  as  a  whole,  is  now  as  completely 
emancipated  from  English  political  influence,  as  if  the  latter  never 
had  an  existence.  The  emancipation  is  too  complete,  indeed,  the 
effect  having  brought  with  it  a  reaction  that  is,  on  many  points, 
running  into  error  in  a  contrary  direction ;  the  third  of  our  manu 
scripts  having  something  to  do  with  these  excesses  of  opinion.  But, 
Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage  appears  to  have  some  near  glimmerings  of 
the  principles  which  lay  at  the  root  of  the  American  revolution, 
though  the  principle  itself  does  not  appear  to  have  been  openly  recog 
nised  anywhere  at  the  time.  The  king  of  England  was  originally 
king  of  America,  as  he  was  king  of  Ireland,  and  king  of  Scotland. 
It  is  true,  there  was  no  American  flag,  the  system  excluding  the 
colonies  from  any  power  on  the  ocean  ;  then,  each  colony  existed  as 
independent  of  the  others,  except  through  their  common  allegiance. 
The  revolution  of  1688  slowly  brought  parliament  into  the  ascendant ; 
and,  by  the  time  George  III.  ascended  the  throne,  that  ascendancy 
had  got  to  be  almost  undisputed.  Now,  America  had  no  proper  con- 


THECHAINBEARER.  53 

Bayard  bowed,  civilly  enough,  to  my  remark,  and  he 
changed  the  subject.  Sufficient  had  been  said,  however,  to 
satisfy  me  that  there  would  be  little  political  sympathy  be 
tween  us,  let  the  family  tie  be  drawn  as  close  as  it  might. 
The  girls  joined  us  before  we  had  got  altogether  into  ano 
ther  vein  of  discourse,  and  I  was  a  little  chagrined  at  rinding 
that  Kate  entered  rather  more  into  her  admirer's  views  of 
such  subjects  than  comported  with  the  true  feelings,  as  I 
fancied,  of  a  Littlepage,  after  all  that  had  passed.  Still,  as  I 
should  have  liked  the  woman  I  loved  to  agree  with  me  in 
opinion  as  much  as  possible  in  everything,  I  was  not  dis 
posed  to  judge  harshly  of  my  sister  on  that  account.  On 
the  other  hand,  to  my  surprise,  I  found  Miss  Priscilla  a 
zealous,  and,  to  say  the  truth,  a  somewhat  blind  patriot ; 
condemning  England,  the  king,  and  the  efforts  of  parlia 
ment  with  a  warmth  that  was  only  equal  to  that  with  which 
she  defended  every  thing,  act,  measure,  principle  or  policy, 
that  was  purely  American. 

I  cannot  say  I  had  as  much  tolerance  for  the  patriotism 
of  Miss  Bayard  as  I  had  for  the  petit  treason  of  my  sister. 
It  seemed  natural  enough  that  Kate  should  begin  to  look  at 
things  of  this  nature  with  the  eyes  of  the  man  she  had  made 
up  her  mind  to  marry ;  but  it  looked  far  more  like  manage 
ment  in  her  friend,  who  belonged  to  a  tory  family,  to  volun 
teer  so  freely  the  sentiments  of  one  she  could  not  yet  love, 
inasmuch  as  until  that  day  she  had  never  even  seen  him. 

"  Is  it  not  so,  major  Littlepage,"  cried  this  lovely  crea 
ture,  for  very  lovely  she  was,  beyond  all  dispute ;  and  femi 
nine,  and  delicate,  and  lady-like,  and  all  I  could  have  wished 
her,  had  she  only  been  a  little  less  of  a  whig,  and  a  good 
deal  more  of  a  tory ;  her  eyes  sparkling  and  flashing,  at  the 
same  time,  as  if  she  felt  all  she  was  saying  from  the  very 
bottom  of  her  heart  —  "  Is  it  not  so,  major  Littlepage  ?  — 
America  has  come  out  of  this  war  with  imperishable  glorf ; 
and  her  history,  a  thousand  years  hence,  will  be  the  wonder 
and  admiration  of  all  who  read  it !" 

nection  with  parliament,  which,  in  that  day,  represented  England 
and  Wales  only;  and  this  was  a  state  of  things  which  made  one 
country  dependent  on  the  other,  a  subserviency  of  interests  that  clearly 
could  last  only  so  long  as  the  party  governed  was  too  weak  to  take 
care  of  itself.] 
5* 


54  TIIECHAINBEARER. 

"  That  will  somewhat  depend  on  what  her  history  may 
prove  to  be,  between  that  day  and  this.  The  early  history 
of  all  great  nations  fills  us  with  admiration  and  interest, 
while  mightier  deeds  effected  by  an  insignificant  people  are 
usually  forgotten." 

"  Still,  this  revolution  has  been  one  of  which  any  nation 
might  have  been  proud  !" 

As  it  would  not  have  been  proper  to  deny  this,  I  bowed 
and  strayed  a  little  from  the  rest  of  the  party,  under  the 
pretence  of  looking  for  shells.  My  sister  soon  joined  me, 
when  the  following  short  conversation  passed  between  us. 

"  You  find  Pris.  Bayard  a  staunch  whig,  major  Little- 
page,"  commenced  my  warm-hearted  sister. 

"  Very  much  so ;  but  I  had  supposed  the  Bayards  ex 
cessively  neutral,  if  not  absolutely  the  other  way."  • 

"  Oh !  that  is  true  enough  of  most  of  them,  but  not  with 
Pris.,  who  has  long  been  a  decided  whig.  There  is  Tom, 
now,  rather  moderate  in  his  opinions,  while  the  father  and 
mother  are  what  you  call  excessively  neutral;  but,  Pris. 
has  been  a  whig  almost  as  long  as  I  have  known  her." 

"  Almost  as  long !     She  was,  then,  a  tory  once  ?" 

"  Hardly ;  though  certainly  her  opinions  have  undergone 
a  very  gradual  change.  We  are  both  young,  you  will  re 
member  ;  and  girls  at  their  first  coming  out  do  very  little 
of  their  own  thinking.  For  the  last  three  years,  certainly, 
or  since  she  was  seventeen,  Pris.  has  been  getting  to  be 
more  and  more  of  a  whig,  and  less  and  less  of  a  tory.  Do 
you  not  find  her  decidedly  handsome,  Mordaunt  ?" 

"  Very  decidedly  so,  and  very  winning  in  all  that  be 
longs  to  her  sex  —  gentle,  feminine,  lady-like,  lovely,  and 
withal  a  whig." 

"  I  knew  you  would  admire  her !"  cried  Kate,  in  triumph. 
"  I  shall  live  to  see  my  dearest  wish  accomplished !" 

"  I  make  no  doubt  you  will,  child ;  though  it  will  not  be 
by  the  marriage  of  a  Mr.  Littlepage  to  a  Miss  Bayard." 

I  got  a  laugh  and  a  blush  for  this  sally,  but  no  sign  of 
submission.  On  the  contrary,  the  positive  girl  shook  her 
head,  until  her  rich  curls  were  all  in  motion,  and  she  laugh 
ed  none  the  less.  We  immediately  joined  our  companions, 
and  by  one  of  those  crossings  over  and  figurings  in,  that 
are  so  familiar  to  the  young  of  the  two  sexes,  we  were  sooa 


THE    CHAINBBARBR 


55 


walking  along  the  sands  again,  Tom  at  Kate's  side,  and  I 
at  that  of  Priscilla  Bayard's.  What  the  other  two  talked 
about  I  never  knew,  though  I  fancy  one  might  guess  ;  but,  the 
young  lady  with  me  pursued  the  subject  of  the  revolution. 

"  You  have  probably  been  a  little  surprised,  major  Little- 
page,"  she  commenced,  "  to  hear  me  express  myself  so 
warmly  in  favour  of  this  country,  as  some  of  the  branches 
of  my  family  have  been  treated  harshly  by  the  new  govern 
ment?" 

"  You  allude  to  the  confiscations?  I  never  justified  them, 
and  wish  they  had  not  been  made ;  for  they  fall  heaviest  on 
those  who  were  quite  inoffensive,  while  most  of  our  active 
enemies  have  escaped.  Still,  it  is  no  more  than  is  usual  in 
civil  wars,  and  what  would  surely  have  befallen  us,  had  it 
been  our  fortune  to  be  the  losing  party." 

"  So  I  have  been  told ;  but,  as  no  loss  has  fallen  on  any 
who  are  very  near  to  me,  my  public  virtue  has  been  able  to 
resist  private  feeling.  My  brother,  as  you  may  have  seen, 
is  less  of  an  American  than  I  am  myself." 

"  I  have  supposed  he  is  one  of  the  *  extremely  neutral ;' 
and  they,  I  have  thought,  always  incline  a  little  in  favour 
of  the  losing  party." 

"  I  hope,  however,  his  political  bias,  which  is  very  honest, 
though  very  much  in  error,  will  not  materially  affect  him 
in  your  good  opinion.  Too  much  depends  on  that,  for  me 
not  to  be  anxious  on  the  subject ;  and,  being  the  only  de 
cided  whig  in  the  family,  I  have  thought  I  would  venture  to 
speak  in  behalf  of  a  very  dearly  beloved  brother." 

*  Well,7  I  said  to  myself,  '  this  is  being  sufficiently  ma 
naging  ;  but  I  am  not  quite  so  unpractised  as  to  be  the  dupe 
of  an  artifice  so  little  concealed  !  The  deuce  is  in  the  girl ; 
yet  she  seems  in  earnest,  looks  at  me  with  the  good  faith 
and  simplicity  of  a  sister  who  feels  even  more  than  she  ex 
presses,  and  is  certainly  one  of  the  loveliest  creatures  I  ever 
laid  eyes  on !  I  must  not  let  her  see  how  much  I  am  on 
my  guard,  but  must  meet  management  with  management. 
It  will  be  singular,  indeed,  if  I,  who  have  commanded  a 
company  of  continentals  with  some  credit,  cannot  get  along 
with  a  girl  of  twenty,  though  she  were  even  handsomer, 
and  looked  still  more  innocent  than  this  Pris.  Bayard,  which 
would  bo  no  easy  matter,  by  the  way.' 


56  TIIECHAINBEARER. 

The  reader  will  understand  this  was  what  I  said  to  my 
self,  and  it  was  soon  uttered,  for  one  talks  surprisingly  fast 
to  himself;  but,  that  which  I  said  to  my  fair  companion, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  was  very  different  in  language 
and  import. 

"  I  do  not  understand  in  what  way  Mr.  Bayard  can  be 
affected  by  my  opinion,  let  it  be  for  or  against  him,"  I  an 
swered,  with  just  as  much  innocency  of  expression,  accord 
ing  to  my  notion  of  the  matter,  as  the  young  lady  herself 
had  thrown  into  her  own  pretty  countenance,  thereby  doing 
myself  infinite  credit,  in  my  own  conceit ;  "  though  I  am 
far  from  judging  any  man  severely,  because  he  happens  to 
differ  from  me  in  his  judgment  of  public  things.  The  ques 
tion  was  one  of  great  delicacy,  and  the  most  honest  men 
have  differed  the  widest  on  its  merits." 

"  You  do  not  know  how  glad  I  am  to  hear  you  say  this, 
Mr.  Littlepage,"  returned  my  companion,  with  one  of  the 
sweetest  smiles  woman  ever  bestowed  on  man.  "  It  will 
make  Tom  completely  happy,  for  I  know  he  has  been  sadly 
afraid  of  you,  on  this  very  point." 

I  did  not  answer  instantly ;  for,  I  believe,  I  was  watching 
the  traces  of  that  bewitching  smile,  and  speculating  against 
its  influence  with  the  pertinacity  of  a  man  who  was  deter 
mined  not  to  be  taken  in.  That  smile  haunted  me  for  a 
week,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  fully  comprehended 
it.  I  decided,  however,  to  come  to  the  point  at  once,  as  re 
spects  Bayard  and  my  sister,  and  not  be  beating  the  bush 
with  indirect  allusions. 

"  In  what  manner  can  my  opinion  influence  your  brother, 
Miss  Bayard  ?"  I  asked,  as  soon  as  I  was  ready  to  say  any 
thing.  "  To  prevent  misconceptions,  let  me  beg  of  you  to 
be  a  little  more  explicit." 

"  You  can  hardly  be  ignorant  of  my  meaning,  I  should 
think !"  answered  Priscilla,  with  a  little  surprise.  "  One 
has  only  to  look  at  the  couple  before  us,  to  comprehend 
how  your  opinion  of  the  gentleman  might  have  an  influence 
on  himself,  at  least." 

"  The  same  might  be  said  of  us,  Miss  Bayard,  so  far  as 
my  inexperienced  eye  can  tell.  They  are  a  young  couple, 
walking  together ;  the  gentleman  appearing  to  admire  the 
\-.  ,dy,  I  will  confess ;  and  we  are  a  young  couple  walking 


THBCHAINBBAREK.  57 

together,  the  gentleman  appearing  to  admire  the  lady,  or  he 
does  no  credit  to  his  taste  or  sensibility." 

<  There,'  said  I  to  myself,  again, «  that  is  giving  her  q'aite 
as  good  as  I  receive ;  let  me  see  how  you  take  that.'' 

Pris.  took  it  very  well ;  laughing,  and  blushing  just  enough 
to  make  her  appear  the  loveliest  creature  I  had  ever  laid 
eyes  on.  She  shook  her  head,  very  much  as  my  sister  had 
done  not  long  before,  and  disclaimed  the  analogy,  first  in 
her  manner,  and  next  with  her  tongue. 

"  The  cases  are  very  different,  sir,"  she  answered.  "  We 
are  strangers  to  each  other,  while  Tom  Bayard  and  Kate 
Littlepage  are  acquaintances  of  years'  standing.  We  do 
not  love  each  other  in  the  least ;  not  a  bit,  though  we  are 
inclined  to  think  very  well  of  each  other,  on  account  of  the 
interest  we  take  in  the  couple  before  us,  and  because  I  am 
the  intimate  friend  of  your  only  sister,  and  because  you  are 
the  only  brother  of  my  intimate  friend.  There,  however," 
and  she  now  spoke  with  emphasis,  "  our  interest  ceases, 
never  to  be  increased  beyond  a  friendly  regard;  that  I  trust 
will  grow  up  out  of  our  respective  merits,  and  respective 
discernment.  It  is  very,  very  different  with  the  couple  be 
fore  us ;"  here,  again,  the  flexible  girl  spoke  with  extreme 
feeling  ;  every  tone  and  cadency  of  her  voice  denoting  lively 
sensibility.  "  They  have  been  long  attached,  not  admirers 
of  each  other,  as  you  call  it,  major  Littlepage,  but  attached; 
and  your  opinion  of  my  brother,  just  at  this  moment,  is  of 
the  last  importance  to  him.  I  hope  I  have,  at  last,  made 
myself  understood  ?" 

"  Perfectly ;  and  I  intend  to  be  just  as  explicit.  In  the 
first  place,  I  enter  a  solemn  protest  against  all  that  you  have 
said  about  the  « other  couple,'  with  the  exception  of  the  in 
terest  we  each  feel  in  the  brother,  or  sister.  Next,  I  pro 
claim  Kate  Littlepage  to  be  her  own  mistress,  so  far  as  her 
brother  Mordaunt  is  concerned;  and  lastly,  I  announce  that 
I  see  or  know  nothing  in  the  character,  connections,  fortune, 
person,  or  position  of  her  suitor,  Thomas  Bayard,  of  the 
Hickories,  Esquire,  that  is  in  the  least  below  her  pretensions 
or  merits.  I  hope  that  is  sufficiently  satisfactory  ?" 

"  Entirely  so ;  and  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  thank 
you  for  it.  I  will  own  I  have  had  some  little  apprehensions 
on  the  subject  of  Tom's  political  opinions ;  but,  those  re- 


58  THECHAINBEARER 

moved,  nothing  else  can  remain  to  create  the  smallest  uu 
easiness." 

"  How  is  it  possible  that  any  of  you  could  consider  my 
notions  of  so  much  importance,  when  Kate  has  a  father,  a 
mother,  and  a  grandmother  living,  all  of  whom,  as  I  under 
stand  things,  approve  of  her  choice?" 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Littlepage,  you  are  not  conscious  of  your  im 
portance  in  your  own  family,  I  see.  I  know  it  better  than 
you  appear  to  know  it  yourself.  Father,  mother,  grand 
mother  and  sister,  all  think  and  speak  of  Mordaunt,  alike. 
To  hear  the  general  converse  of  the  war,  you  would  sup 
pose  that  he  had  commanded  a  company,  and  captain  Little- 
page  the  regiment.  Mrs.  Littlepage  defers  to  Mordaunt's 
taste,  and  Mordaunt's  opinions,  and  Mordaunt's  judgment, 
even  in  housekeeping  and  hem-stitching.  Kate  is  for  ever 
saying  «  my  brother  says  this,'  *  my  brother  writes  that,7 
'  my  brother  does  t'other ;'  and,  as  for  the  old  lady  here,  at 
the  *  Toe,'  she  would  hardly  think  her  peaches  and  cherries 
could  ripen,  unless  Mordaunt  Littlepage,  the  son  of  her  son 
Corny  Littlepage  —  by  no  accident  does  she  ever  call  him 
1  general'  —  were  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  to  create  an  eter 
nal  sunshine !" 

Was  there  ever  a  girl  like  this  1  That  speech  was  made 
too,  in  the  quietest,  most  gentle,  lady-like  manner,  possible. 
That  the  young  lady  had  spirit  and  humour  enough,  was 
very  apparent ;  and  for  a  moment  I  doubted  whether  both 
were  not  accompanied  by  the  most  perfect  simplicity  of 
character,  and  the  most  perfect  good  faith.  Subsequent  re 
marks  and  occurrences,  however,  soon  revived  all  my 
original  distrusts. 

"  This  is  a  vivid  picture  of  family  weaknesses,  that  you 
have  so  graphically  drawn,  Miss  Bayard,"  I  answered ; 
"  and  I  shall  not  easily  forget  it.  What  renders  it  the  more 
lively  and  pointed,  and  the  more  likely  to  be  relished  by  the 
world,  is  the  fact  that  Mordaunt  so  little  deserves  the  ex 
treme  partiality  of  the  friends  you  have  mentioned." 

"  The  last  feature  forms  no  part  of  my  picture,  major 
Littlepage,  and  I  disown  it.  As  for  the  world,  it  will  never 
know  anything  about  it.  You  and  I  are  not  the  world,  nor 
are  we  at  all  likely  ever  to  be  the  world  to  each  other ;  I 
wish  you  particularly  to  understand  that,  which  is  the  rea- 


THECHAINBBARER.  59 

son  I  am  so  frank  with  you,  on  so'  short  an  acquaintance. 
I  tell  you,  your  opinion  is  of  the  last  importance  to  Tom  ; 
as  your  sister  would  not  marry  him,  did  she  believe  you 
thought,  in  the  least,  ill  of  him." 

"  And  she  would,  did  I  think  well  of  him  ?" 

*'  That  is  a  question  a  lady  must  answer  for  herself. 
And,  now,  we  will  say  no  more  on  the  subject;  for  my 
mind  is  easy  since  I  find  you  entertain  no  political  hostility 
to  Tom." 

"  Men  are  much  less  apt  to  entertain  such  feelings,  I 
fancy,  after  they  have  fairly  fought  out  a  quarrel,  than  when 
they  only  talk  over  its  heads.  Besides,  the  winning  party 
is  commonly  the  least  rancorous,  and  success  will  make  us 
whigs  forgiving.  I  give  you  my  honour,  no  objection  will 
be  raised  against  your  brother,  by  me,  on  account  of  his 
opinions  of  the  revolution.  My  dear  mother,  herself,  has 
been  half  a  tory  the  whole  war;  and  Kate,  I  find,  has  im 
bibed  all  her  charity." 

A  singular,  and,  as  I  thought,  a  painful  smile,  crossed  the 
sweet  face  of  Priscilla  Bayard,  as  I  made  this  remark  ;  but 
she  did  not  answer  it.  It  seemed  to  me  she  was  now  de 
sirous  of  quitting  the  subject  entirely,  and  I  immediately  led 
the  discourse  to  other  things. 

Kate  and  I  remained  at  Satanstoe  several  days,  and  Tom 
Bayard  was  a  daily  visitor ;  the  distance  between  the  Neck 
and  the  Hickories  being  no  great  matter.  I  saw  the  young 
lady  twice  during  that  interval ;  once,  by  riding  over  to  her 
father's  residence  with  that  express  object ;  and  once  when 
she  came  across  on  horseback  to  see  her  friend.  I  confess 
I  was  never  more  at  a  loss  to  understand  a  character  than  I 
was  that  of  this  young  woman.  She  was  either  profoundly 
managing,  or  as  innocent  and  simple  as  a  child.  It  was 
easy  to  see  that  her  brother,  my  sister,  my  grandmother, 
and,  as  I  fancied,  the  parents  of  the  young  lady  herself, 
were  anxious  that  T  should  be  on  as  good  terms  as  possible 
with  Pris.,  as  they  all  called  her  ;  though  I  could  not  fathom 
her  own  feelings  on  the  subject.  It  would  have  been  unna 
tural  not  to  have  loved  to  gaze  on  her  exceeding  beauty,  or 
not  to  have  admired  her  extremely  graceful  and  feminine 
manner,  which  was  precisely  all  that  one  could  wish  it  to 
be  in  the  way  of  ease  and  self-possession,  without  being  in 


60  THECIIAINBEAREK. 

the  least  free  or  forward  ;*and  I  did  gaze  on  the  one,  and 
admire  the  other,  at  the  very  moment  I  was  most  disposed 
to  distrust  her  sincerity,  and  to  believe  her  nature  the  very 
perfection  of  art.  There  were  times  when  I  was  disposed 
to  fancy  this  Pris.  Bayard  as  profound  and  skilful  an  actoi 
as  one  of  her  sex,  years,  and  condition  in  life  could  well 
become,  without  falling  altogether;  and  there  were  mo 
ments,  too,  when  she  seemed  to  be  instinct  with  all  the  sen 
sitive  and  best  qualities  of  her  sex. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  I  remained  heart-whole, 
under  such  circumstances,  notwithstanding  the  obvious 
wishes  of  my  friends,  and  the  young  lady's  great  advan 
tages  !  A  man  no  more  falls  blindly  in  love  when  he  dis 
trusts  anything  amiss,  than  he  sees  anything  amiss  when 
he  is  blindly  in  love.  It  has  often  been  a  matter  of  surprise 
to  me,  how  often  and  how  completely  the  wisest  of  the 
earthly  races  conspire  to  deceive  themselves.  When  suspi 
cions  are  once  excited,  testimony  is  not  needed ;  condemna 
tion  following  much  as  a  logical  induction,  though  founded 
on  nothing  better  than  plausible  distrusts ;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  where  confidence  exists,  testimony  is  only  too 
apt  to  be  disregarded.  Women,  in  particular,  are  peculiarly 
apt  to  follow  the  bias  of  their  affections,  rather  than  of  their 
reasons,  in  all  cases  connected  with  guilt.  They  are  hard 
to  be  convinced  of  the  unworthiness  of  those  who  belong  ta 
them,  through  the  affections,  because  the  affections  are 
usually  stronger  with  them  than  their  reasoning  powers. 
How  they  cling  to  their  priests,  for  instance,  when  the  cooler 
heads  and'  greater  experience  of  men  condemn,  and  that 
merely  because  their  imaginations  choose  to  adorn  the 
offenders  with  the  graces  of  that  religion  which  they  vene 
rate,  and  on  which  they  rely  !  He  is  a  shrewd  man  who  can 
draw  the  line  between  the  real  and  the  false  in  these  mat 
ters  ;  but  he  is  truly  a  weak  one  who  disregards  evidence, 
when  evidence  is  complete  arid  clear.  That  we  all  have  our 
sins  and  our  failings  is  true,  but  there  are  certain  marks  of 
unworthiness  which  are  infallible,  and  which  ought  never 
o  be  disregarded,  since  they  denote  the  existence  of  the 
want  of  principle  that  taints  a  whole  character. 


THE    CHAINBBARER.  61 


CHAPTER  V. 

*  He  were  an  excellent  man,  that  were  made  just  in  the  mid-way  be 
tween  him  and  Benedick  :  the  one  is  too  like  an  image,  and  says 
nothing ;  and  the  other,  too  like  my  lady's  eldest  son,  evermore 
tattling."  Beatrice. 

THE  very  day  my  sister  and  I  left  Satanstoe,  there  was 
an  interesting  interview  between  my  grandmother  and  my 
self,  that  it  may  be  well  to  relate.  It  took  place  in  the  cool 
of  the  morning,  before  breakfast,  indeed,  and  previously  to 
the  appearance  of  any  of  the  rest  of  the  party ;  for  Tom 
Bayard  and  his  sister  had  again  ridden  across  the  country 
to  pass  the  night,  and  see  us  off.  My  grandmother  had  re 
quested  me  to  meet  her  thus  early,  in  a  sort  of  little  piazza, 
that  modern  improvements  had  annexed  to  one  end  of  the 
old  buildings,  and  in  which  we  both  appeared  accordingly 
with  the  utmost  punctuality.  I  saw  by  a  certain  sort  of 
importance  that  my  good  grandmother  wore  in  her  counte 
nance,  that  she  had  weighty  matters  on  her  mind,  and  took 
the  chair  she  had  set  for  me  with  some  little  curiosity  to 
learn  what  was  to  follow.  The  chairs  were  placed  side  by 
side,  or  nearly  so,  but  looking  different  ways,  and  so  close 
together  that,  when  seated,  we  were  quite  face  to  face.  My 
grandmother  had  on  her  spectacles,  and  she  gazed  wistfully 
through  them  at  me,  parting  the  curls  on  my  forehead,  as 
had  been  her  wont  when  I  was  a  boy.  I  saw  tears  rolling 
out  from  behind  the  glasses,  and  felt  apprehensive  I  might 
have  said  or  done  something  to  have  wounded  the  spirit  of 
that  excellent  and  indulgent  parent. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  grandmother,  what  can  this  mean?" 
I  cried.  "  Have  I  done  anything  amiss  ?" 

"  No,  my  child,  no ;  but  much  to  the  contrary.     You 

are,  and  ever  have  been,  a  good  and  dutiful  son,  not  only 

to  your  real  parents,  but  to  me.     But  your  name  ought  to 

have  been  Hugh  —  that  I  will  maintain,  long  as  I  live.    I 

6 


6$  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

.old  your  father  as  much  when  you  were  born ;  but  he  was 
Mordaunt-mad  then,  as,  indeed,  he  has  remained  pretty 
much  ever  since.  Not  that  Mordaunt  is  not  a  good  name, 
and  a  respectable  name,  and  they  say  it  is  a  noble  name  in 
England ;  but  it  is  a  family  name,  and  family  names  are 
not  fit  for  Christian  names,  at  the  best.  Hugh  should  have 
been  your  name,  if  I  could  have  had  my  way ;  and,  if  not 
Hugh,  Corny.  Well,  it  is  too  late  for  that  now,  as  Mordaunt 
you  are,  and  Mordaunt  you  must  live  and  die.  Did  any  one 
ever  tell  you,  my  child,  how  very,  very  like  you  are  to  your 
honoured  grandfather  ?" 

"  My  mother,  frequently — I  have  seen  the  tears  start  into 
her  eyes  as  she  gazed  at  me,  and  she  has  often  told  me  my. 
family  name  ought  to  have  been  Mordaunt,  so  much  do  I 
resemble  her  father." 

"  Her  father !  —  Well,  Anneke  does  get  some  of  the 
strangest  conceits  into  her  head !  A  better  woman,  or  a 
dearer,  does  not  breathe  —  I  love  your  mother,  my  child, 
quite  as  much  as  if  she  had  been  born  my  own  daughter ; 
but  I  must  say  she  does  get  some  of  the  strangest  notions 
into  her  head  that  mortal  ever  imagined.  You  like  Herman 
Mordaunt !  You  are  the  very  image  of  your  grandfather 
Littlepage,  and  no  more  like  Herman  Mordaunt  than  you 
are  like  the  king !" 

The  revolution  was  then,  and  is  now  still  too  recent  to 
prevent  these  constant  allusions  to  royalty,  notwithstanding 
my  grandfather  had  been  as  warm  a  whig  as  there  was  in 
the  colonies,  from  the  commencement  of  the  struggle.  As 
for  the  resemblance  spoken  of,  I  have  always  understood  I 
was  a  mingled  repetition  of  the  two  families,  as  so  often 
happens,  a  circumstance  that  enables  my  different  relatives 
to  trace  such  resemblances  as  best  suit  their  respective 
fancies.  This  was  quite  convenient,  and  may  have  been  a 
reason,  in  addition  to  the  fact  of  my  being  an  only  son,  that 
1  was  so  great  a  favourite  with  the  females  of  my  family. 
My  dear  old  grandmother,  who  was  then  in  her  sixty-ninth 
year,  was  so  persuaded  of  my  likeness  to  her  late  husband, 
the  "  old  general,"  as  he  was  now  called,  that  she  would  not 
proceed  in  her  communications  until  she  had  wiped  her  eyes, 
and  gratified  her  affections  with  another  long  and  wistful 
gaze. 


THE    CHAINBEAHER.  63 

"Oh!  those  eyes!"  she  murmured  —  "and  that  fore 
head  ! — The  mouth  too,  and  the  nose,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
smile,  which  is  as  much  alike  as  one  pea  is  like  another  1" 

This  left  very  little  for  the  Mordaunts,  it  must  be  owned ; 
the  chin  and  ears  being  pretty  much  all  that  were  not  claim 
ed  for  the  direct  line.  It  is  true,  my  eyes  were  blue,  and 
the  "old  general's"  had  been  as  black  as  coals;  my  nose 
was  Grecian,  and  his  a  most  obtrusive  Roman ;  and,  as  for 
the  mouth,  I  can  only  say  mine  was  as  like  that  of  my  mo 
ther's  as  a  man's  could  well  be  like  a  woman's.  The  last, 
I  had  heard  my  father  say,  a  thousand  times.  Put,  no 
matter ;  age,  and  affection,  and  the  longings  of  the  parent, 
caused  my  grandmother  to  see  things  differently. 

"  Well,  Mordaunt,"  the  good  old  lady  at  length  continued, 
"  how  do  you  like  this  choice  of  your  sister  Kate's  1  Mr. 
Bayard  is  a  charming  young  man,  is  he  not  ?" 

"  Is  it  then  a  choice,  grandmother  ?  Has  Kate  actually 
made  up  her  mind  ?" 

"  Pshaw !"  answered  my  grandmother,  smiling  as  archly 
as  if  she  were  sixteen  herself — "  that  was  done  long  ago— 
and  papa  approved,  and  mamma  was  anxious,  and  I  con 
sented,  and  sister  Anneke  wa*s  delighted,  and  everything 
was  as  smooth  as  the  beach  at  the  end  of  the  Neck,  but 
waiting  for  your  approbation.  c  It  would  not  be  right,  grand 
mother,  for  me  to  engage  myself,  while  Mordaunt  is  away, 
and  without  his  even  knowing  the  gentleman  ;  so  I  will  not 
answer  until  I  get  his  approbation  too,'  said  Kate.  That 
was  very  pretty  in  her,  was  it  not,  my  child  ?  All  your 
father's  children  have  a  sense  of  propriety !" 

"  Indeed  it  was,  and  I  shall  not  forget  it  soon.  But,  sup 
pose  I  had  disapproved,  what  would  have  followed,  grand 
mother?" 

"  You  should  never  ask  unpleasant  questions,  saucy 
fellow;  though  I  dare  to  say  Kate  would,  at  least,  have 
asked  Mr.  Bayard  to  wait  until  you  had  changed  your  mind. 
Giving  him  up  altogether  would  be  out  of  the  question,  and 
unreasonable ;  but  she  might  have  waited  a  few  months  or 
so,  until  you  changed  your  mind ;  and  I  would  have  ad 
vised  her  so  to  do.  But,  all  that  is  unnecessary,  as  matters 
are ;  for  you  have  expressed  your  approbation,  and  Kate  is 
perfectly  happy.  The  last  letter  from  Lilacsbush,  which 


64  THECHAINBEARER. 

Jaap  brought,  gives  the  formal  consent  of  your  dear  parents 
.—  and  what  parents  you  have,  my  child  !  —  so  Kate  wrote 
an  acceptance  yesterday,  and  it  was  as  prettily  expressed  a 
note  as  I  have  seen  in  many  a  day.  Your  own  mother 
could  not  have  done  it  better  in  her  young  days ;  and  An- 
neke  Mordaunt  worded  a  note  as  genteelly  as  any  young 
woman  I  ever  knew." 

"  I  am  glad  everything  has  gone  right,  and  am  sure  no 
one  can  wish  the  young  couple  more  happiness  than  I  do 
myself.  Kate  is  a  dear,  good  girl,  and  I  love  her  as  much 
as  a  brother  can  love  a  sister." 

"  Is  she  not  1  and  as  thorough  a  Littlepage  as  ever  was 
born !  I  do  hope  she  will  be  happy.  All  the  marriages  in 
our  family  have  proved  so  hitherto,  and  it  would  be  strange 
if  this  should  turn  out  differently.  Well,  now,  Mordaunt, 
when  Kate  is  married,  you  will  be  the  only  one  left." 

"  That  is  true,  grandmother ;  and  you  must  be  glad  to  find 
there  will  be  one  of  us  left  to  come  and  see  you,  without 
bringing  nurses  and  children  at  his  heels." 

"  I !  —  I  glad  of  anything  of  the  sort !  No,  indeed,  my 
child ;  I  should  be  sorry  enough  did  I  think,  for  a  moment, 
you  would  not  marry  as  soon  as  is  prudent,  now  the  war  is 
over.  As  for  children,  I  dote  on  them ;  and  I  have  ever 
thought  it  a  misfortune  that  the  Littlepages  have  had  so 
few,  especially  sons.  Your  grandfather,  my  general,  was 
an  only  son ;  your  father  was  an  only  son ;  and  you  are  an 
only  son ;  that  is,  so  far  as  coming  to  men's  estates  are,  or 
were  concerned.  No,  Mordaunt,  my  child,  it  is  the  warmest 
wish  of  my  heart  to  see  you.properly  married,  and  to  hold 
the  Littlepages  of  the  next  generation  in  my  arms.  Two 
of  you  I  have  had  there  already,  and  I  shall  have  lived  the 
life  of  the  blessed  to  be  able  to  hold  the  third." 

"  My  dear,  good  grandmother!  —  What  am  I  to  under 
stand  by  all  this?" 

"  That  I  wish  you  to  marry,  my  child,  now  that  the  war 
is  ended ;  that  your  father  wishes  you  to  marry ;  that  your 
mother  wishes  you  to  marry ;  and  that  your  sister  wishes 
you  to  marry." 

"  And  all  of  you  wish  me  to  marry  the  same  person  ?  Is 
»t  not  so  1" 


THE    CHAINBBARER.  65 

My  grandmother  smiled,  but  she  fidgeted ;  fancying,  as 
I  suspected,  that  she  had  been  pushing  matters  a  little  too 
fast.  It  was  not  easy,  however,  for  one  of  her  truth  and 
simplicity  of  character  to  recede  after  having  gone  so  far ; 
and  she  wisely  determined  to  have  no  reserves  with  me  on 
the  subject. 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  Mordaunt,"  she  answered,  after 
a  short  pause.  "  We  do  all  wish  you  to  fall  in  love  as  soon 
as  you  can ;  to  propose  as  soon  as  you  are  in  love ;  and  to 
marry  Priscilla  Bayard,  the  instant  she  will  consent  to  have 
you." 

"  This  is  honest,  and  like  yourself,  my  dear  grandmo 
ther;  and  now  we  both  know  what  is  intended,  and  can 
speak  plainly.  In  the  first  place,  do  you  not  think  one  con 
nection  of  this  sort,  between  families,  quite  sufficient?  If 
Kate  marry  the  brother,  may  I  not  be  excused  for  overlook 
ing  the  attractions  of  the  sister  ?" 

"  Priscilla  Bayard  is  one  of  the  loveliest  girls  in  York 
Colony,  Mordaunt  Littlepage !" 

"  We  call  this  part  of  the  world  York  State,  now,  dearesl 
grandmother.  I  am  far  from  denying  the  truth  of  what  you 
say  ; — Priscilla  Bayard  is  very  lovely." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  more  you  can  wish,  than  to  get 
such  a  girl." 

"  I  shall  not  say  that  the  time  will  not  come  when  I  may 
be  glad  to  obtain  the  consent  of  the  young  lady  to  become 
my  wife ;  but  that  time  has  not  yet  arrived.  Then,  I  ques 
tion  the  expediency,  when  friends  greatly  desire  any  parti 
cular  match,  of  saying  too  much  about  it." 

My  poor  grandmother  looked  quite  astounded,  like  one 
who  felt  she  had  innocently  done  mischief;  and  she  sat 
gazing  fondly  at  me,  with  the  expression  of  a  penitent  child 
painted  in  her  venerated  countenance. 

"  Nevertheless,  Mordaunt,  I  had  a  great  share  in  bring 
ing  about  the  union  between  your  own  dear  parents,"  she 
at  length  answered  ;  "  and  that  has  been  one  of  the  happiest 
marriages  I  have  ever  known  !" 

I  had  often  heard  allusions  of  this  nature,  and  I  had  se 
veral  times  observed  the  quiet  smile  of  my  mother,  as  she 
listened  to  them ;  smiles  that  seemed  to  contradict  the  opinion 


66  THBCHAINBEARER. 

to  which  my  grandmother's  mistaken  notions  of  her  own 
influence  had  given  birth.  On  one  occasion  (I  was  still 
quite  a  boy),  I  remember  to  have  asked  my  mother  how  the 
fact  was,  when  the  answer  was,  "  I  married  your  father 
through  the  influence  of  a  butcher's  boy  ;"  a  reply  that  had 
some  reference  to  a  very  early  passage  in  the  lives  of  my 
parents.  But,  I  well  know  that  neither  Cornelius  Littlepage, 
nor  Anneke  Mordaunt,  was  a  person  to  be  coaxed  into 
matrimony;  and  I  resolved  on  the  spot,  their  only  son 
should  manifest  an  equal  independence.  I  might  have  an 
swered  my  grandmother  to  this  effect,  and  in  language 
stronger  than  was  my  practice  when  addressing  that  reve 
rend  parent,  had  not  the  two  girls  appeared  on  the  piazza 
at  that  moment,  and  broke  up  our  private  conference. 

Sooth  to  say,  Priscilla  Bayard  came  forth  upon  me,  that 
morning,  with  something  like  the  radiance  of  the  rising  sun. 
Both  the  girls  had  that  fresh,  attractive  look,  that  is  apt  to 
belong  to  the  toilettes  of  early  risers  of  their  sex,  and  which 
probably  renders  them  handsomer  at  that  hour,  than  at  any 
other  part  of  the  day.  My  own  sister  was  a  very  charming 
girl,  as  any  one  would  allow ;  but  her  friend  was  decidedly 
beautiful.  I  confess  I  found  it  a  little  difficult  not  to  give  in 
on  the  spot,  and  to  whisper  my  anxious  grandmother  that  I 
would  pay  proper  attention  to  the  young  lady,  and  make  an 
offer  at  the  suitable  time,  as  she  advanced  towards  us,  ex 
changing  the  morning  salutations,  with  just  enough  of  ease 
to  render  her  perfectly  graceful,  and  yet  with  a  modesty 
and  retenue  that  were  infinitely  winning. 

"  Mordaunt  is  about  to  quit  me,  for  the  whole  summer, 
Miss  Bayard,"  said  my  grandmother,  who  would  be  doing 
while  there  was  a  chance ;  "  and  I  have  had  him  out  here, 
to  converse  a  little  together,  before  we  part.  Kate  I  shall 
see  often  during  the  pleasant  season,  I  trust ;  but  this  is  to 
be  the  last  of  Mordaunt,  until  the  cold  weather  return." 

<*«!s  Mr.  Littlepage  going  to  travel  ?"  inquired  the  young 
lady,  with  just  as  much  interest  as  good  breeding  demanded, 
and  not  a  particle  more ;  "  for  Lilacsbush  is  not  so  distant 
but  he  might  ride  over  once  a  week,  at  least,  to  inquire 
how  you  do." 

"  Oh !    He  is  going  a  great,  great  distance,  and  to  a  par 
of  the  world  I  dread  to  think  of!" 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  67 

Miss  Bayard  now  looked  really  startled,  and  a  good  deal 
astonished,  questioning  me  with  her  very  fine  eyes,  though 
she  said  nothing  with  her  tongue. 

"  It.  is  time  I  explain,  lest  Miss  Bayard  fancy  my  destina 
tion  to  be  China ;  whither  all  American  adventurers  now 
seem  bent  on  going.  I  shall  not  quit  the  State,  however." 

"  As  the  State  is  of  some  size,"  answered  Priscilla,  "  a 
grandmother  may  think  an  only  grandson  far  enough  dis 
tant  who  is  at  the  other  end  of  it.  Perhaps  you  visit  Nia 
gara,  major  Littlepage  ?  I  have  heard  of  several  gentlemen 
who  have  such  an  excursion  in  view ;  and  glad  enough  shall 
I  be  when  the  roads  are  in  such  a  state  that  ladies  can  be 
of  the  party." 

"  And  you  would  have  the  spirit  to  be  of  such  a  party  ?" 
asked  my  grandmother,  seizing  with  avidity  everything,  even 
to  the  least,  that  might  encourage  her  wishes. 

Pris.  Bayard  seemed  fearful  she  had  gone  too  far ;  for 
she  blushed  very  charmingly,  ere  she  answered. 

"  I  am  not  aware,  Mrs.  Littlepage,  that  any  very  great 
spirit  would  be  required,"  she  said.  "  It  is  true,  there  are 
Indians  by  the  way,  and  a  vast  wilderness  between  us  and 
the  end  of  the  journey  ;  but  ladies  have  made  it,  I  have  been 
told,  and  in  safety.  One  hears  such  wonders  of  the  Falls, 
that  it  would  be  a  strong  temptation  to  hazard  something, 
in  order  to  see  them." 

I  look  back  with  wonder  over  the  short  interval  of  time 
that  interposes,  when  I  remember  how  we  used  to  regard 
the  Falls  of  Niagara  in  my  youth.  A  voyage  to  Europe 
seemed  little  less  hazardous  and  serious ;  and  voyages  to 
Europe  were  not  then  what  they  are  to-day.* 

*  The  reader,  of  course,  will  always  recollect  that  this  manuscript 
was  written  nearly,  if  not  quite  forty  years  ago.  Even  then,  a  journey 
to  Niagara  was  a  serious  undertaking.  Now  (1845),  it  can  be  made 
by  steam  the  entire  distance  from  the  town  of  New  York,  or  between 
450  and  500  miles,  in  less  than  thirty-six  hours !  This  is  one  of  the 
prodigies  of  a  giant  in  his  infancy,  and  should  render  foreign  politi 
cians  cautious  how  they  talk  of  regulating  the  boundaries  of  this 
republic,  for  its  citizens.  If  the  past  can  be  any  pledge  for  the  future 
in  American  history,  they  are  now  living  who  will  see  steam  extended 
across  the  continent,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  the  stars 
and  stripes  flying  at  each  end !  More  than  a  thousand  of  the  four 
thousand  nvles  necessary  to  achieve  such  an  object  have  been  over- 


68  THECHAINBEARER. 

"  Nothing  would  make  me  happier,"  I  eric  d,  gallantly, 
to  my  poor  grandmother's  ill-concealed  delight,  "  than  to  be 
the  protector  of  Miss  Bayard  on  the  excursion.5' 

"  You  really  think,  then,  of  undertaking  the  journey, 
major  Littlepage  ?" 

"  Not  this  season,  though  I  hold  the  hope  in  reserve,  for 
some  future  day.  My  destination,  at  present,  is  Ravensnest, 
a  place  less  than  fifty  miles  distant  from  Albany." 

"  Ravensnest ! — That  is  a  pretty  name,  though  one  might 
iike  it  better,  I  think,  Kate,  were  it  Dovesnest,  or  Robinsnest, 
or  Wrensnest.  What  is  this  Ravensnest,  Mr.  Littlepage?" 

"  An  estate  of  a  good  deal  of  land,  but  of  no  great  value 
as  yet,  whatever  it  may  turn  out  to  be  hereafter,  that  was 
once  the  property  of  my  grandfather  Mordaunt,  and  which 
he  bequeathed  to  me.  My  father  and  colonel  Dirck  have 
also  an  estate  adjoining  it,  which  is  called  Mooseridge.  I 
am  to  visit  both ;  as  the  owner  of  one,  and  as  the  agent  of 
the  owners  of  the  other.  It  is  time  the  several  properties 
were  looked  to,  the  late  troubles  having  almost  thrown  them 
out  of  our  view." 

"  They  tell  me  that  a  great  deal  is  doing  in  the  way  of 
settling  the  wild  lands  of  the  interior-  this  summer,"  con 
tinued  Priscilla,  with  an  interest  in  the  subject  that  was 
much  more  obvious  to  me,  than  explicable  — "  and  that  a 
great  many  settlers  are  pouring  in  upon  us  from  the  adjoin 
ing  New  England  States.  I  have  heard,  also,  that  the  vast 
possessions  of  the  Patroon  are  fast  filling  up,  and  that  the 
heart  of  the  State  will  soon  be  peopled." 

"You  are  more  conversant  with  such  matters  than  it  is 
usual  to  find  young  ladies,  Miss  Bayard.  I  ascribe  this  to 
your  being  so  good  a  whig,  which  is  but  another  name  for  a 
patriot." 

Pris.  blushed  again,  and  she  now  seemed  disposed  to  be 
silent ;  though  I  could  still  detect  an  interest  in  the  subject 

come;  and  that  which  remains  to  be  done,  comparing  ends  with 
means,  is  not  one-half  as  great  an  effort  as  that  which  has  been  done. 
This  may  be  a  proper  place  to  add,  that  nothing  has  so  much  strength, 
ened  the  present  administration,  in  its  annexation  projects,  as  the 
threatened  interference  of  European  governments  in  the  affairs  of  this 
continent.  At  some  critical  moment,  when  it  is  least  wanted,  America 
may  pay  them  in  kind.  —  EDITOR. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  69 

that  to  me  was  quite  unaccountable.  Kate  probably  saw 
this  too,  for  she  continued  to  converse  about  my  journey, 
even  after  her  friend  had  drawn  a  little  on  one  side ;  and 
that,  too,  in  a  manner  which  seemed  to  say  she  was  done. 

"  Who  is  the  queer  old  man  of  whom  I  have  heard  you 
speak,  Mordaunt,"  my  sister  demanded,  "  and  with  whom 
you  have  lately  had  some  correspondence  about  these 
lands?" 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  my  former  comrade,  the  « Chain- 
bearer.'  There  was  a  captain  in  our  regiment  of  the  name 
of  Coejemans,  who  bears  this  appellation,  and  who  has  con 
tracted  to  get  the  necessary  surveys  made,  though  he  fills 
the  humble  post  of  a  *  Chainbearer'  himself,  not  being  com 
petent  to  make  the  calculations." 

"  How  can  a  mere  Chainbearer  contract  for  a  full  sur 
vey  ?"  asked  Tom  Bayard,  who  had  joined  the  party,  and 
had  been  listening  to  the  discourse.  "  The  Chainbearers, 
in  general,  are  but  common  labourers,  and  are  perfectly 
irresponsible." 

"  That  is  true,  as  a  rule ;  but  my  old  friend  forms  an 
exception.  He  set  out  for  a  surveyor,  but  having  no  head 
for  sines,  and  co-sines,  and  tangents,  he  was  obliged  to 
lower  his  pretensions  to  the  humbler  duty  he  now  dis 
charges.  Still,  he  has  long  contracted  for  jobs  of  this  na 
ture,  and  gets  as  much  as  he  can  do,  hiring  surveyors 
himself,  the  owners  of  property  having  the  utmost  confi 
dence  in  his  measurements.  Let  me  tell  you,  the  man  who 
carries  chain  is  not  the  least  important  member  of  a  sur 
veying  party  in  the  woods.  Old  Andries  is  as  honest  as 
noon-day,  and  everybody  has  faith  in  him." 

"  His  true  name  is  Coejemans,  I  think  you  said,  major 
Littlepage  ?"  asked  Priscilla,  as  it  struck  me  assuming  an 
air  of  indifference. 

"  It  is,  Andries  Coejemans ;  and  his  family  is  reputable, 
if  not  absolutely  of  a  high  caste.  But  the  old  man  is  so  in 
veterate  a  woodsman,  that  nothing  but  patriotism,  and  his 
whig  propensities,  could  have  drawn  him  out  into  the  open 
country.  After  serving  most  gallantly  through  the  whole 
war,  he  has  gone  back  to  his  chains ;  and  many  is  the  joke 
he  has  about  remaining  still  in  chains,  after  fighting  so  long 
and  so  often  in  the  cause  of  liberty." 


70 


THE    CHAINBEARER. 


Priscilla  appeared  to  hesitate  —  I  thought  her  colour  in* 
creased  a  little  —  then  she  asked  the  question  that  was  ap. 
parently  uppermost  in  her  thoughts,  with  surprising  steadi 
ness. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  the  '  ChainbearerV  niece,  Dus  Mai- 
bone?" 

This  question  not  a  little  surprised  me ;  for,  though  I  had 
never  seen  Ursula,  the  uncle  had  talked  so  much  to  me  of 
his  ward,  that  I  almost  fancied  she  was  an  intimate  acquaint 
ance.  It  often  happens  that  we  hear  so  much  of  certain 
persons,  that  we  think  and  speak  of  them  as  of  those  we 
know ;  and  had  Miss  Bayard  questioned  me  of  one  of  my 
late  comrades  in  the  service,  I  should  not  have  been  a  whit 
more  startled  than  I  was  at  hearing  her  pronounce  the  fami 
liar  name  of  Dus  Mai  bone. 

"  Where,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  curious,  did  you  ever 
hear  of  such  a  person  !"  I  exclaimed,  a  little  inconsiderately, 
since  the  world  was  certainly  wide  enough  to  admit  of  two 
young  women's  being  acquainted,  without  my  consent ;  more 
especially  as  one  of  them  I  had  never  seen,  and  the  other  I 
had  met,  for  the  first  time,  only  a  fortnight  before.  "  Old 
Andries  was  always  speaking  to  me  of  his  niece ;  but  I  could 
not  suppose  she  was  an  acquaintance  of  one  of  your  position 
in  life !" 

"  Notwithstanding,  we  were  something  more  than  school 
fellows  ; — for  we  were,  and  I  trust  are  still,  very,  very  good 
friends.  I  like  Dus  exceedingly,  though  she  is  quite  as 
singular,  in  her  way,  as  I  have  heard  her  uncle  described  to 
be,  in  his." 

"  This  is  odd  ! — Will  you  allow  me  to  ask  one  question  ? 
— You  will  think  it  singular,  perhaps,  after  what  you  have 
just  told  me  —  but  curiosity  will  get  the  better  of  my  man 
ners — is  Dus  Malbone  a  lady — the  equal  and  companion  of 
such  a  person  as  Miss  Priscilla  Bayard  ?" 

"  That  is  a  question  not  so  easily  answered,  perhaps ; 
since,  in  some  respects,  she  is  greatly  the  superior  of  any 
young  woman  I  know.  Her  family,  I  have  always  heard, 
was  very  good  on  both  sides ;  she  is  poor,  poor  even  to 
poverty,  I  fear,  now" — Here  Pris.  paused ;  there  was  a  tre- 
mour  in  her  voice,  even,  and  I  detected  tears  starting  to  her 
eyes.  "Poor  Dus!"  she  continued  —  "she  had  much  to 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  71 

support,  in  the  way  of  poverty,  even  while  at  school ;  where 
she  was,  indeed,  as  a  dependant,  rather  than  as  a  boarder ; 
but  no  one,  among  us  all,  could  presume  to  offer  her  favours. 
I  was  afraid  even  to  ask  her  to  accept  a  ribbon,  as  I  should 
not  hesitate  to  do  to  Kate  here,  or  any  other  young  lady 
with  whom  I  was  intimate.  I  never  knew  a  nobler-minded 
girl  than  Ursula  Malbone,  though  few  persons  understand 
her,  I  think." 

"  This  is  old  Andries  over  again  !  He  was  poor  enough, 
heaven  knows ;  and  I  have  known  him  actually  suffer,  in 
order  to  do  his  duty  by  this  girl,  and  to  make  a  proper  ap 
pearance  at  the  same  time,  as  a  captain  in  the  New  York 
line  ;  yet  none  of  us,  not  even  my  father,  could  ever  induce 
him  to  borrow  a  single  dollar.  He  would  give,  but  he  would 
not  receive." 

"  I  can  believe  this  readily,  it  is  so  like  Dus  !  If  she  has 
her  peculiarities,  she  has  noble  qualities  enough  to  redeem 
a  thousand  foibles.  Still,  I  would  not  have  you  think  Ursula 
Malbone  is  not  an  excellent  creature  in  all  respects,  though 
she  certainly  has  her  peculiarities." 

"  Which,  doubtless,  she  has  inherited  from  the  Coejemans, 
as  her  uncle,  the  Chainbearer,  has  his  peculiarities  too." 

"  The  Malbones  have  none  of  the  blood  of  the  Coeje 
mans,"  answered  the  lady,  quickly ;  "  though  it  is  respecta 
ble,  and  not  to  be  ashamed  of.  Dus  Malbone's  mother  was 
only  half-sister  to  captain  Coejemans,  and  they  had  different 
fathers." 

I  thought  Pris.  looked  a  little  confused,  and  as  if  she  were 
sorry  she  had  said  so  much  on  the  subject  at  all,  the  instant 
she  had  betrayed  so  much  intimacy  with  the  Malbone 
genealogy;  for  she  shrunk  back,  plucked  a  rose,  and  walked 
away  smelling  the  flower,  like  one  who  was  indisposed  to 
say  any  more  on  the  subject.  A  summons  to  breakfast, 
however,  would  otherwise  have  interrupted  us,  and  no  more 
was  said  about  the  Chainbearer,  and  his  marvellous  niece, 
Dus  Malbone.  As  soon  as  the  meal  was  ended,  our  horses 
were  brought  round,  and  Kate  and  I  took  our  leave,  Jaap 
having  preceded  us  as  usual,  an  hour  or  more,  with  our 
luggage.  The  reader  is  not  to  suppose  that  we  always 
moved  in  the  saddle,  in  that  day ;  on  the  contrary,  my  mo- 
ther  had  a  very  neat  chaise,  in  which  she  used  to  drive 


72  THE     CII  AINBEARER. 

about  the  country,  with  a  mounted  postilion ;  my  father  had 
a  phaeton,  and  in  town  we  actually  kept  a  chariot ;  for  the 
union  of  the  Mordaunt  and  Littlepage  properties  had  made 
us  very  comfortable,  and  comfortably  we  lived.  But  young 
ladies  liked  the  saddle  twenty-five  years  ago,  more  than  they 
do  to-day ;  and  Kate,  being  a  capital  horsewoman,  like  her 
mother  before  her,  we  were  often  out  together.  It  was 
choice,  then,  and  not  necessity,  a  little  aided  by  bad  roads, 
perhaps,  that  induced  us  to  ride  across  to  Satanstoe  so  often, 
when  we  wished  to  visit  our  grandmother. 

I  kissed  my  dear  old  parent  very  affectionately  at  part 
ing,  for  I  was  to  see  her  no  more  that  summer ;  and  I  got 
her  blessing  in  return.  As  for  Tom  Bayard,  a  warm,  bro 
therly  shake  of  the  hand  sufficed,  inasmuch  as  it  was  pretty 
certain  I  should  see  him  at  Lilacsbush  before  I  left  home. 
Approaching  his  sister,  who  held  out  her  hand  to  me,  in  a 
friendly  manner,  I  said  as  I  took  it — 

"  I  hope  this  is  not  the  last  time  I  am  to  see  you,  before 
I  start  for  the  new  countries,  Miss  Bayard.  You  owe  my 
sister  a  visit,  I  believe,  and  I  shall  trust  to  that  debt  for  an 
other  opportunity  of  saying  the  unpleasant  word  *  fare 
well.'  " 

"  This  is  not  the  way  to  win  a  lady's  heart,  Mordaunt," 
cried  Kate,  gaily.  "It  is  only  fifteen  miles  from  your 
father's  door  to  the  Hickories,  you  ought  to  know,  sir ;  and 
you  have  a  standing  invitation  to  darken  its  door  with  your 
military  form." 

"  From  both  my  father  and  brother" — put  in  Priscilla,  a 
little  hastily.  "  They  will  always  be  happy  to  see  major 
Littlepage,  most  certainly." 

"  And  why  not  from  yourself,  Miss  Prude,"  added  Kate, 
who  seemed  bent  on  causing  her  friend  some  confusion. 
"  We  are  not,  now,  such  total  strangers  to  each  other,  as  to 
render  that  little  grace  improper." 

"  When  I  am  mistress  of  a  house  of  my  own,  should  that 
day  ever  arrive,  I  shall  take  care  not  to  lose  my  reputation 
for  hospitality,"  answered  Pris.,  determined  not  to  be  caught, 
"  by  neglecting  to  include  all  the  Littlepage  family  in  my 
invitations.  Until  then,  Tom's  and  papa's  welcomes  must 
suffice." 

The  girl  looked  amazingly  lovely  all  this  time,  and  stood 


T  11  E    C  II  A  I  N  B  E  A  R  E  K  .  73 

the  smiles  of  those  around  her  with  a  self-possession  that 
showed  me  she  knew  perfectly  well  what  she  was  about.  I 
was  never  more  at  a  loss  how  to  understand  a  young  wo 
man,  and  it  is  very  possible,  had  I  remained  near  her  for  a 
month  longer,  the  interest  such  uncertainty  is  apt  to  awaken 
might  have  sent  me  away  desperately  in  love.  But  Provi 
dence  had  determined  otherwise. 

During  our  ride  towards  the  'Bush,  my  sister,  with  pro 
per  blushes  and  a  becoming  hesitation,  let  me  into  the  secret 
of  her  having  accepted  Tom  Bayard.  They  were  not  to  be 
married  until  after  my  return  from  the  north,  an  event  that 
was  expected  to  take  place  in  the  ensuing  autumn. 

"  Then  I  am  to  lose  you,  Kate,  almost  as  soon  as  I  find 
you,"  I  said,  a  little  despondingly. 

"  Not  lose  me,  brother ;  no,  no,  not  lose  me,  but  Jlnd  me, 
more  than  ever.  I  am  to  be  transplanted  into  a  family 
whither  you  will  soon  be  coming  to  seek  a  wife,  yourself." 

"  Were  I  to  come,  what  reason  have  I  for  supposing  it 
would  be  successful  ?" 

"  That  is  a  question  you  have  no  right  to  ask.  Did  I 
even  know  of  any  particular  reason  for  believing  your  re 
ception  would  be  favourable,  you  cannot  believe  me  suffi 
ciently  treacherous  to  betray  my  friend.  Young  ladies  are 
not  of  the  facility  of  character  you  seem  to  suppose,  sir ; 
and  no  method  but  the  direct  one  will  succeed.  I  have  no 
other  reason  for  believing  you  would  succeed,  than  the  facts 
that  you  are  an  agreeable,  good-looking  youth,  however, 
of  unexceptionable  family  and  fortune,  living  quite  near  the 
Hickories,  and  of  a  suitable  age,  temper,  Ijabits,  character, 
&c.  &c.  &c.  Are  not  these  reasons  sufficient  to  encourage 
you  to  persevere,  my  brave  major  ?" 

"  Perseverance  implies  commencement,  and  I  have  not 
yet  commenced.  I  scarcely  know  what  to  make  of  your 
friend,  child  ;  she  is  either  the  perfection  of  nature  and  sim 
plicity,  or  the  perfection  of  art." 

"  Art !  Pris.  Bayard  artful !  Mordaunt,  you  never  did  a 
human  being  greater  injustice ;  a  child  cannot  have  greater 
truth  and  sincerity  than  Tom's  sister." 

"Ay,  that's  just  it;  Tom's  sister  is  ex  officio  perfect; 
but,  you  will  please  to  remember  that  some  children  are 
7 


74  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

very  artful.  All  I  can  say  on  the  subject  at  present  is,  thai 
I  like  Tom,  and  I  like  his  parents ;  but  I  do  not  know  what 
to  think  of  your  friend." 

Kate  was  a  little  offended,  so  she  made  me  no  answer. 
Her  good-humour  returned,  however,  before  we  had  gone 
far,  and  the  rest  of  our  ride  passed  pleasantly  enough,  no 
allusions  being  made  to  any  of  the  name  of  Bayard  ;  though, 
I  dare  say,  my  companion  thought  a  great  deal  of  a  certain 
Tom,  of  that  name,  as  I  certainly  did  of  his  handsome  and 
inexplicable  sister. 

At  the  Kingsbridge  Inn,  we  had  another  short  brush  with 
that  untiring  gossip,  its  landlady. 

"  A  pleasant  time  it  has  been  over  at  the  'Toe,  I  dares  to 
say,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Light,  the  instant  she  thrust  her  head 
out  of  the  door ;  "  a  most  agreeable  and  amusing  time  both 
for  the  young  gentleman  and  for  the  young  lady.  Mr. 
Thomas  Bayard  and  Miss  Pris.  Bayard  have  been  with  you, 
days  and  days,  and  old  Madam  Littlepage  is  delighted.  Oh  f 
the  'Toe  has  always  been  a  happy  house,  and  happy  faces 
have  I  long  been  used  to  see  come  out  of  it,  and  happy  faces 
do  I  see  to-day  !  Yes,  yes ;  the  'Toe  has  always  sent  happy, 
contented  faces  down  the  road ;  and  a  happy  roof  it  has 
been,  by  all  accounts,  these  hundred  years." 

I  dare  say  this  was  all  true  enough.  I  have  always  heard 
that  the  old  place  contained  contented  hearts  ;  and  contented 
hearts  make  happy  faces.  Kate's  face  was  happiness  itself, 
as  she  sat  in  the  saddle  listening  to  the  crone;  and  my  coun 
tenance  is  not  one  of  ill-nature.  The  "  'Toe  was  ever  a 
happy  house !"  It  recalls  old  times,  to  hear  a  house  thus 
familiarly  spoken  of;  for  a  set  is  rising  up  among  us  which 
is  vastly  too  genteel  to  admit  that  any  one,  man,  woman, 
child,  or  Satan,  ever  had  a  member  so  homely  as  a  'Toe. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  75 


CHAPTER  VI. 

M  They  love  their  land,  because  it  is  their  own, 
And  scorn  to  give  aught  other  reason  why ; 
Would  shake  hands  with  a  king  upon  his  throne, 
And  think  it  kindness  to  his  majesty ; 
A  stubborn  race,  fearing  and  flattering  none, 
Such  are  they  nurtured,  such  they  live  and  die : 
All,  but  a  few  apostates,  who  are  meddling 
With  merchandise,  pounds,  shillings,  pence,  and  peddling." 

HALLECK. 

A  DAY  or  two  after  my  return  to  Lilacsbush,  was  pre 
sented  one  of  those  family  scenes  which  are  so  common  in 
the  genial  month  of  June,  on  the  shores  of  the  glorious  old 
Hudson.  I  call  the  river  the  old  Hudson,  for  it  is  quite  as 
old  as  the  Tiber,  though  the  world  has  not  talked  of  it  as 
much,  or  as  long.  A  thousand  years  hence,  this  stream 
will  be  known  over  the  whole  earth ;  and  men  will  speak 
of  it  as  they  now  speak  of  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine.  As 
good  wine  may  not  be  made  on  its  banks  as  is  made  on  the 
acclivities  of  the  latter  river ;  but,  even  to-day,  better,  both 
as  to  quality  and  variety,  is  actually  drunk.  On  this  last 
point,  all  intelligent  travellers  agree. 

There  stands  a  noble  linden  on  the  lawn  of  Lilacsbush, 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  house,  and  necessarily  within 
a  short  distance  of  the  water.  The  tree  had  been  planted 
there  by  my  grandmother  Mordaunt's  father,  to  whom  the 
place  once  belonged ;  and  it  was  admirably  placed  for  the 
purposes  of  an  afternoon's  lounge.  Beneath  its  shade  we 
often  took  our  dessert  and  wine,  in  the  warm  months  ;  and 
thither,  since  their  return  from  the  army,  general  Littlepage 
and  colonel  Dirck  Pollock  used  to  carry  their  pipes,  and 
smoke  over  a  campaign,  or  a  bottle,  as  chance  directed  the 
discourse.  For  that  matter,  no  battle-field  had  ever  been  so 
veiled  in  smoke,  as  would  have  been  the  case  with  the  linden 
in  question,  could  there  have  been  a  concentration  of  all 
the  vapour  it  had  seen. 


76  THECHAINBEARER. 

The  afternoon  of  the  day  just  mentioned,  the  whole  family 
were  seated  beneath  the  tree,  scattered  round,  as  shade  and 
inclination  tempted ;  though  a  small  table,  holding  fruits 
and  wine,  showed  that  the  usual  business  of  the  hour  had 
not  been  neglected.  The  wines  were  Madeira  and  claret, 
those  common  beverages  in  the  country ;  and  the  fruits  were 
strawberries,  cherries,  oranges  and  figs ;  the  two  last  im 
ported,  of  course.  It  was  a  little  too  early  for  us  to  get 
pines  from  the  islands,  a  fruit  which  is  so  common  in  its 
season  as  to  be  readily  purchased  in  town  at  the  rate  of  four 
of  a  good  size  for  a  dollar.  But,  the  abundance,  and  even 
luxury,  of  a  better  sort  of  the  common  American  tables,  is 
no  news ;  viands,  liquors  and  fruits  appearing  on  them,  that 
are  only  known  to  the  very  rich  and  very  luxurious  in  the 
countries  of  Europe.  If  the  service  were  only  as  tasteful, 
and  the  cooking  as  good  with  us,  as  both  are  in  France,  for 
instance,  America  would  be  the  very  paradise  of  the  epicure, 
let  superficial  travellers  say  what  they  please  to  the  con 
trary.  I  have  been  abroad  in  these  later  times,  and  speak 
of  what  I  know. 

No  one  sat  at  the  table,  though  my  father,  colonel  Dirck, 
and  I  were  near  enough  to  reach  our  glasses,  at  need.  My 
mother  was  next  to  me,  and  reasonably  close ;  for  I  did  not 
not  smoke  while  aunt  Mary  and  Kate  had  taken  post,  just 
without  the  influence  of  the  tobacco.  On  the  shore  was  a 
large  skiff,  that  contained  a  tolerably  sized  trunk  or  two, 
and  a  sort  of  clothes-bag.  In  the  first  were  a  portion  of 
my  clothes,  while  those  of  Jaap  filled  the  bag.  The  negro 
himself  was  stretched  on  the  grass,  about  half-way  between 
the  tree  and  the  shore,  with  two  or  three  of  his  grandchil 
dren  rolling  about,  at  his  feet.  In  the  skiff  was  his  son, 
seated  in  readiness  to  use  the  sculls,  as  soon  as  ordered. 

All  this  arrangement  denoted  my  approaching  departure 
for  the  north.  The  wind  was  at  the  south,  and  sloops  of 
various  degrees  of  promise  and  speed  were  appearing  round 
the  points,  coming  on  one  in  the  wake  of  another,  as  P  vch 
had  been  able  to  quit  the  wharves  to  profit  by  the  b*  cze. 
In  that  day,  the  river  had  not  a  tenth  part  of  the  •'raft  it 
now  possesses ;  but  still,  it  had  enough  to  make  a  lit  ^e  fleet, 
so  near  town,  and  at  a  moment  when  wind  and  tide  both 
became  favourable.  At  (hat  time,  most  of  the  craft  on  the 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  77 

Hudson  belonged  up  the  river,  and  they  partook  largely  of 
the  taste  of  our  Dutch  ancestors.  Notable  travellers  before 
the  gales,  they  did  very  little  with  foul  winds,  generally 
requiring  from  a  week  to  a  fortnight  to  tide  it  down  from 
Albany,  with  the  wind  at  all  from  the  south.  Nevertheless, 
few  persons  thought  of  making  the  journey  between  the  two 
largest  towns  of  the  State  (York  and  Albany),  without 
having  recourse  to  one  of  these  sloops.  I  was  at  that  mo 
ment  in  waiting  for  the  appearance  of  a  certain  "  Eagle,  of 
Albany,  captain  Bogert,"  which  was  to  run  in  close  to 
Lilacsbush,  and  receive  me  on  board,  agreeably  to  an  ar 
rangement  previously  made  in  town.  I  was  induced  to  take 
a  passage  in  this  vessel  from  the  circumstance  that  she  had 
a  sort  of  after-cabin  that  was  screened  by  an  ample  green 
curtain,  an  advantage  that  all  the  vessels  which  then  plied 
on  the  river  did  not  possess ;  though  great  improvements 
have  been  making  ever  since  the  period  of  which  I  am  now 
writing. 

Of  course,  the  interval  thus  passed  in  waiting  for  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  Eagle  was  filled  up,  more  or  less,  by  dis 
course.  Jaap,  who  was  to  accompany  me  in  my  journey  to 
Ravensnest,  knew  every  vessel  on  the  river,  as  soon  as  he 
could  see  her,  and  we  depended  on  him  to  let  us  know  when 
I  was  to  embark,  though  the  movements  of  the  sloop  her 
self  could  not  fail  to  give  us  timely  notice  of  the  necessity 
of  taking  leave. 

"  I  should  like  exceedingly  to  pay  a  visit  to  old  Mrs. 
Vander  Heyden,  at  Kinderhook,  Mordaunt,"  said  my  mo 
ther,  after  one  of  the  frequent  pauses  that  occurred  in  the 
discourse.  "  She  is  a  relation,  and  I  feel  a  great  regard  for 
her ;  so  much  the  more,  from  the  circumstance  of  her  being 
associated  in  my  mind  with  that  frightful  night  on  the  river, 
of  which  you  have  heard  me  speak." 

As  my  mother  ceased  speaking,  she  glanced  affectionately 
towards  the  general,  who  returned  the  look,  as  he  returned 
all  my  mother's  looks,  with  one  filled  with  manly  tender 
ness.  A  more  united  couple  than  my  parents  never  existed. 
They  seemed  to  me  ordinarily  to  have  but  one  mind  between 
them ;  and  when  there  did  occur  any  slight  difference  of 
opinion,  the  question  was  not  which  should  prevail,  but 
which  should  yield.  Of  the  two,  my  mother  may  have  had 
7* 


78  THECHAINBEARER. 

the  most  native  intellect,  though  the  general  was  a  fine, 
manly,  sensible  person,  and  was  very  universally  respected. 

"  It  might  be  well,  Anneke,"  said  my  father,  "  if  the 
major  were  to  pay  a  visit  to  poor  Guert's  grave,  and  see  if 
the  stones  are  up,  and  that  the  place  is  kept  as  it  should  be. 
I  have  not  been  there  since  the  year  '68,  when  it  looked  as 
if  a  friendly  eye  might  do  some  good  at  no  distant  day." 

This  was  said  in  a  low  voice,  purposely  to  prevent  aunt 
Mary  from  hearing  it;  and,  as  she  was  a  little  deaf,  it  is 
probable  the  intention  was  successful.  Not  so,  however, 
with  colonel  Dirck,  who  drew  the  pipe  from  his  mouth,  and 
sat  attentively  listening,  in  the  manner  of  one  who  felt  great 
interest  in  the  subject.  Another  pause  succeeded. 

"  T'en  t'ere  ist  my  Lort  Howe,  Corny,"  observed  the 
colonel ;  '•  how  is  it  wit'  his  grave?" 

"  Oh !  the  colony  took  good  care  of  that.  They  buried 
him  in  the  main  aisle  of  St.  Peter's,  I  believe ;  and,  no  doubt, 
all  is  right  with  him.  As  for  the  other,  major,  it  might  be 
well  to  look  at  it." 

"  Great  changes  have  taken  place  at  Albany,  since  we 
were  there  as  young  people  !"  observed  my  mother,  thought 
fully.  "  The  Cuylers  are  much  broken  up  by  the  revolu 
tion,  while  the  Schuylers  have  grown  greater  than  ever. 
Poor  aunt  Schuyler,  she  is  no  longer  living  to  welcome  a 
son  of  ours !" 

"  Time  will  bring  about  such  changes,  my  love ;  and  we 
can  only  be  thankful  that  so  many  of  us  remain,  after  so 
long  and  bloody  a  war." 

I  saw  my  mother's  lips  move,  and  I  knew  she  was  mur 
muring  a  thanksgiving  to  the  power  which  had  preserved 
her  husband  and  son,  through  the  late  struggle. 

"  You  will  write  as  often  as  opportunities  occur,  Mor- 
daunt,"  said  that  dear  parent,  after  a  longer  pause  than 
usual.  "  Now  there  is  peace,  I  can  hope  to  get  your  letters 
with  some  little  regularity." 

"  They  tell  me,  cousin  Anneke"  —  for  so  the  colonel  al 
ways  called  my  mother,  when  we  were  alone — "  They  tell 
me,  cousin  Anneke,"  said  colonel  Dirck,  "  t'at  t'ey  actually 
mean  to  have  a  mail  free  times  a  week  petween  Alpany 
and  York !  T'ere  ist  no  knowing,  general,  what  t'is  glo 
rious  revolution  will  not  do  for  us !" 


THECHAINBBARER.  79 

«  If  it  bring  me  letters  three  times  a  week  from  those  1 
love,"  rejoined  my  mother,  "I  am  sure  my  patriotism  will 
be  greatly  increased.  How  will  letters  get  out  from  Ravens- 
nest  to  the  older  parts  of  the  colony  —  I  should  say,  State, 
Mordaunt?" 

"  I  must  trust  to  the  settlers  for  that.  Hundreds  of  Yan 
kees,  they  tell  me,  are  out  looking  for  farms  this  summer. 
I  may  use  some  of  them  for  messengers." 

"  Don't  trust  'em  too  much,  or  too  many"  —  growled 
colonel  Dirck,  who  had  the  old  Dutch  grudge  against  our 
eastern  brethren.  "  See  how  they  behav't  to  Schuyler." 

"  Yes,"  said  my  father,  replenishing  his  pipe,  "  they 
might  have  manifested  more  justice  and  less  prejudice  to 
wise  Philip ;  but  prejudices  will  exist,  all  over  the  world. 
Even  Washington  has  had  his  share." 

"  T'AT  is  a  great  man !"  exclaimed  colonel  Dirck,  with 
emphasis,  and  in  the  manner  of  one  who  felt  certain  of  his 
point.  "  A  ferry  great  man  !" 

"  No  one  will  dispute  with  you,  colonel,  on  that  subject ; 
but,  have  you  no  message  to  send  to  our  old  comrade,  An- 
dries  Coejemans  1  He  must  have  been  at  Mooseridge,  with 
his  party  of  surveyors,  now,  near  a  twelvemonth,  and  I  '11 
warrant  you  has  thoroughly  looked  up  the  old  boundaries, 
so  as  to  be  ready  for  Mordaunt  to  start  afresh,  as  soon  as 
the  boy  reaches  the  Patent." 

"  I  hope  he  hast  not  hiret  a  Yankee  surveyor,  Corny," 
put  in  the  colonel,  in  some  little  alarm.  "  If  one  of  t'em 
animals  gets  upon  the  tract,  he  will  manage  to  carry  off 
half  of  the  lant  in  his  compass-box !  I  hope  olt  Andries 
knows  petter." 

"  I  dare  say  he  '11  manage  to  keep  all  the  land,  as  well  as 
to  survey  it.  It  is  a  thousand  pities  the  captain  has  no  head 
for  figures;  for  his  honesty  would  have  made  his  fortune. 
But,  I  have  seen  him  tried,  and  know  it  will  not  do.  He 
was  a  week  once  making  up  an  account  of  some  stores  re 
ceived  from  head-quarters,  and  the  nearest  he  could  get  to 
<ihe  result  was  twenty-five  per  cent,  out  of  the  way." 

"  I  would  sooner  trust  Andries  Coejemans  to  survey  my 
property,  figures  or  no  figures,"  cried  colonel  Dirck,  posi 
tively,  "  than  any  dominie  in  New  England." 

"  Well  that  is  as  one  thinks,"  returned  my  father,  tasting 


80  THECHAINBEARER. 

the  Madeira.  "  For  my  part,  I  shall  be  satisfied  with  the 
surveyor  he  -may  happen  to  select,  even  though  he  should 
be  a  Yankee.  Andries  is  shrewd,  if  he  be  no  calculator  f 
and  I  dare  to  say  he  has  engaged  a  suitable  man.  Having 
taken  the  job  at  a  liberal  price,  he  is  too  honest  a  fellow  not 
to  hire  a  proper  person  to  do  the  head-work.  As  for  all  the 
rest,  I  would  trust  him  as  soon  as  I  would  trust  any  man  in 
America." 

"  T'at  is  gospel.  Mordaunt  will  haf  an  eye  on  matters 
too,  seein'  he  has  so  great  an  interest  in  the  estate.  T'ere 
is  one  t'ing,  major,  you  must  not  forget.  Five  hundred  goot 
acres  must  be  surveyed  off  for  sister  Anneke,  and  five  hun 
dred  for  pretty  Kate,  here.  As  soon  as  t'at  is  done,  the 
general  and  I  will  give  each  of  the  gals  a  deet." 

"  Thank  you,  Dirck,"  said  my  father,  with  feeling.  "I'll 
not  refuse  the  land  for  the  girls,  who  may  be  glad  enough 
to  own  it  some  time  or  other." 

"  It 's  no  great  matter  now,  Corny ;  put,  as  you  say,  it 
may  be  of  use  one  day.  Suppose  we  make  old  Andries  a 
present  of  a  farm,  in  his  pargain." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  cried  my  father,  quickly.  "  A 
couple  of  hundred  acres  might  make  him  comfortable  for 
the  rest  of  his  days.  I  thank  you  for  the  hint,  Dirck,  and 
we  will  let  Mordaunt  choose  the  lot,  and  send  us  the  de 
scription,  that  we  may  prepare  the  deed." 

"  You  forget,  general,  that  the  Chainbearer  has,  or  will 
have  his  military  lot,  as  a  captain,"  I  ventured  to  remark. 
"Besides,  land  will  be  of  little  use  to  him,  unless  it  might 
be  to  measure  it.  I  doubt  if  the  old  man  would  not  prefer 
going  without  his  dinner,  to  hoeing  a  hill  of  potatoes." 

"  Andries  had  three  slaves  while  he  was  with  us ;  a  man, 
a  woman,  and  their  daughter,"  returned  my  father.  "  He 
would  not  sell  them,  he  said,  on  any  consideration ;  and  I 
have  known  him  actually  suffering  for  money  when  he  was 
too  proud  to  accept  it  from  his  friends,  and  too  benevolent 
to  part  with  family  slaves,  in  order  to  raise  it.  '  They  were 
born  Coejemans,'  he  always  said,  '  as  much  as  I  was  born 
one  myself,  and  they  shall  die  Coejemans.'  He  doubtless 
has  these  people  with  him,  at  the  Ridge,  where  you  will 
find  them  all  encamped,  near  some  spring,  with  garden- 
f  uff  and  other  small  things  growing  around  him,  if  he  cao 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  Ol 

find  open  land  enough  for  such  a  purpose.     He  has  permis 
sion  to  cut  and  till  at  pleasure." 

"  This  is  agreeable  news  to  me,  general,"  I  answered, 
"  since  it  promises  a  sort  of  home.  If  the  Chainbearer  has 
really  these  blacks  with  him,  and  has  hutted  judiciously,  I 
dare  say  we  shall  have  quite  as  comfortable  a  time  as  many 
of  those  we  passed  together  in  camp.  Then,  I  shall  carry 
my  flute  with  me ;  for  Miss  Priscilla  Bayard  has  given  me 
reason  to  expect  a  very  wonderful  creature  in  Dus,  the 
niece,  of  which  old  Andries  used  to  talk  so  much.  You 
remember  to  have  heard  the  Chainbearer  speak  of  such  a 
person,  I  dare  say,  sir ;  for  he  was  quite  fond  of  mentioning 
her." 

"  Perfectly  well ;  Dus  Malbone  was  a  sort  of  toast  among 
the  young  men  of  the  regiment  at  one  time,  though  no  one 
of  them  all  ever  could  get  a  sight  of  her,  by  hook  or  by 
crook." 

Happening  to  turn  my  head  at  that  moment,  I  found  my 
dear  mother's  eyes  turned  curiously  on  me ;  brought  there, 
I  fancy,  by  the  allusion  to  Tom's  sister. 

"  What  does  Priscilla  Bayard  know  of  this  Chainbearer's 
niece?"  that  beloved  parent  asked,  as  soon  as  she  perceived 
that  her  look  had  attracted  my  attention. 

"  A  great  deal,  it  would  seem ;  since  she  tells  me  they 
are  fast  friends :  quite  as  great,  I  should  judge  from  Miss 
Bayard's  language  and  manner,  as  Kate  and  herself." 

"  That  can  scarcely  be,"  returned  my  mother,  slightly 
smiling,  "  since  there  the  principal  reason  must  be  wanting. 
Then,  this  Dus  can  hardly  be  Priscilla  Bayard's  equal." 

"  One  never  knows  such  a  thing,  mother,  until  he  has 
had  an  opportunity  of  making  comparisons ;  though  Misg 
Bayard,  herself,  says  Dus  is  much  her  superior  in  many 
things.  I  am  sure  her  uncle  is  my  superior  in  some  re 
spects ;  in  carrying  chain,  particularly  so." 

"  Ay,  but  scarcely  in  station,  Mordaunt." 

"  He  was  the  senior  captain  of  the  regiment." 

"  True ;  but  revolutions  are  revolutions.  What  I  mean 
is,  that  your  Chainbearer  can  hardly  be  a  gentleman." 

"  That  is  a  point  not  to  be  decided  in  a  breath.  He  is, 
and  he  is  not.  Old  Andries  is  of  a  respectable  family, 
though  but  indifferently  educated.  Men  vastly  his  inferiors 


82  THBCHAINBEARER. 

in  birth,  in  habits,  in  the  general  notions  of  the  easte,  in  the 
New  England  States,  are  greatly  his  superiors  in  know 
ledge.  Nevertheless,  while  we  must  all  admit  how  necessary 
a  certain  amount  of  education  has  become,  at  the  present 
time,  to  make  a  gentleman,  I  think  every  gentleman  will 
allow  hundreds  among  us  have  degrees  in  their  pockets  with 
small  claims  to  belong  to  the  class.  Three  or  four  centuries 
ago,  I  should  have  answered  that  old  Andries  was  a  gentle 
man,  though  he  had  to  bite  the  wax  with  his  teeth  and  make 
a  cross,  for  want  of  a  better  signature." 

"  And  he,  what  you  call  a  chainbearer,  Mordaunt !"  ex 
claimed  my  sister. 

"  As  well  as  late  senior  captain  in  your  father's  regiment, 
Miss  Littlepage.  But,  no  matter,  Andries  and  Dus  are  such 
as  they  are,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  them  for  companions 
this  summer.  Jaap  is  making  signals,  and  I  must  quit  you 
all.  Heigho !  It  is  very  pleasant  here,  under  this  linden, 
and  home  begins  to  entwine  its  fibres  around  my  heart. 
Never  mind ;  it  will  soon  be  autumn,  and  I  shall  see  the 
whole  of  you,  I  trust,  as  I  leave  you,  well  and  happy  in 
town." 

My  dear,  dear  mother  had  tears  in  her  eyes,  when  she 
embraced  me ;  so  had  Kate,  who,  though  she  did  love  Tom 
Bayard  most,  loved  me  very  warmly  too.  Aunt  Mary 
kissed  me,  in  her  quiet  but  affectionate  way ;  and  I  shook 
hands  with  the  gentlemen,  who  accompanied  me  down  to 
the  boat.  I  could  see  that  my  father  was  affected.  Had 
the  war  still  continued,  he  would  have  thought  nothing  of 
the  separation ;  but  in  that  piping  time  of  peace,  it  seemed 
to  come  unseasonably. 

"  Now,  don't  forget  the  great  lots  for  Anneke  and  Ka- 
trinke,"  said  colonel  Dirck,  as  we  descended  to  the  shore. 
"  Let  Andries  pick  out  some  of  the  best  of  the  lant,  t'at  is 
well  watered  and  timbered,  and  we  '11  call  the  lots  after  the 
gals ;  that  is  a  goot  idea,  Corny." 

. "  Excellent,  my  friend.  Mordaunt,  my  son,  if  you  come 
across  any  places  that  look  like  graves,  I  wish  you  would 
set  up  marks  by  which  they  may  be  known.  It  is  true,  a 
quarter  of  a  century  or  more  makes  many  changes  in  the 
woods;  and  it  is  quite  likely  no  such  remains  will  be 
found." 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  83 

**  A  quarter  of  a  century  in  the  American  forest,  sir,"  I 
answered,  "  is  somewhat  like  the  same  period  in  the  wan 
derings  of  a  comet;  lost,  in  the  numberless  years  of  its 
growth.  A  single  tree  will  sometimes  outlast  the  genera 
tions  of  an  entire  nation." 

"  You  wilt  rememper,  Mordaunt,  that  I  wilt  haf  no  Yan 
kee  tenants  on  my  estate.  Your  father  may  lease  'em  one- 
half  of  a  lot,  if  he  please;  but  I  will  not  lease  t'other." 

"  As  you  are  tenants  in  common,  gentlemen,"  I  answered, 
smiling,  "  it  will  not  be  easy  to  separate  th,e  interests  in  this 
manner.  I  believe  I  understand  you,  however ;  I  am  to  sell 
the  lands  of  Mooseridge,  or  covenant  to  sell,  as  your  attor 
ney,  while  I  follow  out  my  grandfather  Mordaunt's  ideas, 
and  lease  those  that  are  not  yet  leased,  on  my  own  estate. 
This  will  at  least  give  the  settlers  a  choice,  and  those  who 
do  not  like  one  plan  of  obtaining  their  farms,  may  adopt  the 
other." 

I  now  shook  hands  again  with  the  gentlemen,  and  step 
ping  into  the  skiff,  we  pulled  away  from  the  shore.  Jaap 
had  made  this  movement  in  good  season,  and  we  were  com 
pelled  to  row  a  quarter  of  a  mile  down  the  river  to  meet  the 
sloop..  Although  the  wind  was  perfectly  fair,  it  was  not  so 
fresh  as  to  induce  Mr.  Bogert  to  round-to ;  but  throwing  us 
a  rope,  it  was  caught,  when  we  were  safely  transferred,  bag 
and  baggage,  to  the  decks  of  the  Eagle. 

Captain  Bogert  was  smoking  at  the  helm,  when  he  re 
turned  my  salute.  Removing  the  pipe,  after  a  puff  or  two, 
he  pointed  with  the  stem  towards  the  group  on  the  shore, 
and  inquired  if  I  wished  to  say  "  good-bye." 

"  Allponny" — so  the  Dutch  were  wont  to  pronounce  thi 
name  of  their  town  in  the  last  century,  "  is  a  long  way  off," 
he  said,  "  and  maype  you  woult  like  to  see  the  frients  ag'in." 

This  business  of  waving  hats  and  handkerchiefs  is  a  re 
gular  thing  on  the  Hudson,  and  I  expressed  my  willingness 
to  comply  with  the  usage,  as  a  matter  of  course.*  In  con- 

*  Such  were  the  notions  of  Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage,  at  the  com 
mencement  of  this  century,  and  such  his  feeling  shortly  after  the 
peace  of  1783.  Nothing  of  the  sort  more  completely  illustrates  th« 
general  change  that  has  come  over  the  land,  in  habits  and  material 
things,  than  the  difference  between  the  movements  of  that  day  and 
those  of  our  own.  Then,  the  departure  of  a  sloop,  or  the  embarkation 
of  a  passenger  along  the  shore,  brought  parties  to  the  wharves,  and 


84  THECHAIHBEAREK* 

sequence,  Mr.  Bogert  deliberately  sheared  in  towards  Ifco 
shore,  and  I  saw  the  whole  family  collecting  on  a  low  rocky 
near  the  water,  to  take  the  final  look.  In  the  back-ground 
stood  the  Satanstoes,  a  dark,  woolly  group,  including  Mrs. 
Jaap,  and  two  generations  of  descendants.  The  whites  were 
weeping ;  that  is  to  say,  my  dear  mother  and  Kate ;  and  the 
blacks  were  laughing,  though  she  old  lady  kept  her  teeth  to 
herself  about  as  much  as  she  exposed  them.  A  sensation 
almost  invariably  produces  laughter  with  a  negro,  the  only 
exceptions  being  on  occasions  of  singular  gravity. 

I  believe,  if  the  truth  were  known,  Mr.  Bogert  greatly 
exulted  in  the  stately  movement  of  his  sloop,  as  she  brushed 
along  the  shore,  at  no  great  distance  from  the  rocks,  with 
her  main-boom  guyed  out  to  starboard,  and  studdingsail- 
boom  to  port.  The  flying-topsail,  too,  was  set;  and  the  Eagle 
might  be  said  to  be  moving  in  all  her  glory.  She  went  so 
near  the  rocks,  too,  as  if  she  despised  danger  !  Those  were 
not  the  days  of  close  calculations  that  have  succeeded. 
Then,  an  Albany  skipper  did  not  mind  losing  a  hundred  or 
two  feet  of  distance  in  making  his  run ;  whereas,  now,  it 
would  not  be  an  easy  matter  to  persuade  a  Liverpool  trader 
to  turn  as  much  aside  in  order  to  speak  a  stranger  in  the 
centre  of  the  Atlantic ;  unless,  indeed,  he  happened  to  want 
to  get  the  other's  longitude. 

As  the  sloop  swept  past  the  rocks,  I  got  bows,  waving  of 
hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and  good  wishes  enough  to  last  the 
whole  voyage.  Even  Jaap  had  his  share ;  and  "  good-bye, 
Jaap,"  came  to  my  ears,  from  even  the  sweet  voice  of  Kate, 
Away  we  went,  in  stately  Dutch  movement,  slow  but  sure, 
In  ten  minutes  Lilacsbush  was  behind  us,  and  I  was  once 
more  alone  in  the  world,  for  months  to  come. 

There  was  now  time  to  look  about  me,  and  to  ascertain 
who  were  my  companions  in  this  voyage.  The  skipper  and 
crew  were  as  usual  the  masters ;  and  the  pilots,  both  whites, 

wavings  of  handkerchiefs,  as  if  those  who  were  left  behind  felt  a 
lingering  wish  to  see  the  last  of  their  friends.  Now,  literally  thou 
sands  come  and  go  daily,  passing  about  as  many  hours  on  the  Hudson 
as  their  grandfathers  passed  days ;  and  the  shaking  of  hands  and 
leave-takings  are  usually  done  at  home.  It  would  be  a  bold  woman 
who  would  think  now  of  waving  a  handkerchief  to  a  Hudson  river 
•team-boat !  —  EDITOR. 


THIS    CHAINBEARER. 

and  both  of  Dutch  extraction,  an  old  wrinkled  negro,  who 
had  passed  his  life  on  the  Hudson  as  a  foremast-hand,  and 
two  younger  blacks,  one  of  whom  was  what  was  dignified 
with  the  name  of  cabin-steward.  Then,  there  were  numer 
ous  passengers ;  some  of  whom  appeared  to  belong  to  the 
upper  classes.  They  were  of  both  sexes,  but  all  were 
strangers  to  me.  On  the  main-deck  were  six  or  eight  sturdy, 
decent,  quiet,  respectable-looking  labourers,  who  were  evi 
dently  of  the  class  of  husbandmen.  Their  packs  were  lying 
in  a  pile,  near  the  foot  of  the  mast,  and  I  did  not  fail  to  ob 
serve  that  there  were  as  many  axes  as  there  were  packs. 

The  American  axe !  It  has  made  more  real  and  lasting 
conquests  than  the  sword  of  any  warlike  people  that  ever 
lived ;  but,  they  have  been  conquests  that  have  left  civiliza 
tion  in  their  train,  instead  of  havoc  and  desolation.  More 
than  a  million  of  square  miles  of  territory*  have  been  open 
ed  up  from  the  shades  of  the  virgin  forest,  to  admit  the 
warmth  of  the  sun ;  and  culture  and  abundance  have  been 
spread  where  the  beast  of  the  forest  so  lately  roamed,  hunted 
by  the  savage.  Most  of  this,  too,  has  been  effected  between 
the  day  when  I  went  on  board  the  Eagle,  and  that  on  which 
I  am  now  writing.  A  brief  quarter  of  a  century  has  seen 
these  wonderful  changes  wrought;  and  at  the  bottom  of 
them  all  lies  this  beautiful,  well-prized,  ready,  and  efficient 
implement,  the  American  axe ! 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  give  the  reader  a  clear  notion  of 
the  manner  in  which  the  young  men  and  men  of  all  ages  of 
the  older  portions  of  the  new  republic  poured  into  the  woods 
to  commence  the  business  of  felling  the  forests,  and  laying 
bare  the  secrets  of  nature,  as  soon  as  the  nation  rose  from 
beneath  the  pressure  of  war,  to  enjoy  the  freedom  of  peace. 
The  history  of  that  day  in  New  York,  which  State  led  the 
van  in  the  righteous  strife  of  improvement,  and  has  ever 
since  so  nobly  maintained  its  vantage-ground,  has  not  yet 
been  written.  When  it  is  properly  recorded,  names  will  be 
rescued  from  oblivion  that  better  deserve  statues  and  niches 
in  the  temple  of  national  glory,  than  those  of  many  who  have 
merely  got  the  start  of  them  by  means  of  the  greater  facility 
with  which  the  public  mind  is  led  away  in  the  train  of 

*  More  than  two  millions  at  the  present  day 
8 


86  TI1ECHAINBEAREH. 

brilliant  exploits,  than  it  is  made  sensible  of  the  merits  of 
those  that  are  humane  and  useful. 

It  was  not  usual  for  settlers,  as  it  has  become  the  practice 
to  term  those  who  first  take  up  and  establish  themselves  on 
new  lands,  to  make  their  journeys  from  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  sea  to  the  interior,  other  than  by  land ;  but  a  few 
passed  out  of  Connecticut,  by  the  way  of  New  York,  and 
thence  up  the  river  in  the  sloops.  Of  this  character  were 
those  I  found  on  board  the  Eagle.  In  all,  we  had  seven  of 
these  men,  who  got  into  discourse  with  me  the  first  day  of 
our  passage,  and  I  was  a  little  surprised  at  discovering  how 
much  they  already  knew  of  me,  and  of  my  movements. 
Jaap,  however,  soon  suggested  himself  to  my  mind,  as  the 
probable  means  of  the  intelligence  they  had  gleaned ;  and, 
on  inquiry,  such  I  ascertained  was  the  fact. 

The  curiosity  and  the  questioning  propensities  of  the  peo 
ple  of  New  England,  have  been  so  generally  admitted  by 
writers  and  commentators  on  American  character,  that  I 
suppose  one  has  a  right  to  assume  the  truth  of  the  charac 
teristics.  I  have  heard  various  ways  of  accounting  for 
them ;  and,  among  others,  the  circumstance  of  their  disposi 
tion  to  emigrate,  which  brings  with  it  the  necessity  of  in 
quiring  after  the  welfare  of  friends  at  a  distance.  It  appears 
to  me,  however,  this  is  taking  a  very  narrow  view  of  the 
cause,  which  I  attribute  to  the  general  activity  of  mind 
among  a  people  little  restrained  by  the  conventional  usages 
of  more  sophisticated  conditions  of  society.  The  practice 
of  referring  so  much  to  the  common  mind,  too,  has  a  great 
influence  on  all  the  opinions  of  this  peculiar  portion  of  the 
American  population,  seeming  to  confer  the  right  to  inquire 
into  matters  that  are  elsewhere  protected  by  the  sacred  feel 
ing  of  individual  privacy. 

Let  this  be  as  it  might,  my  axe-men  had  contrived  to  get 
out  of  Jaap  all  he  knew  about  Ravensnest  and  Mooseridge, 
as  well  as  my  motives  in  making  the  present  journey.  This 
information  obtained,  they  were  not  slow  in  introducing 
themselves  to  me,  and  of  asking  the  questions  that  were 
uppermost  in  their  minds.  Of  course,  I  made  such  answers 
as  were  called  for  by  the  case,  and  we  established  a  sort 
of  business  acquaintance  between  us,  the  very  first  day. 
The  voyage  lasting  several  days,  by  the  time  we  reached 


THE    CHAIN  BE  ARER.  87 

Albany,  pretty  much  all  that  could  be  said  on  such  a  subject 
had  been  uttered  by  one  side  or  the  other. 

As  respected  Ravensnest,  my  own  property,  my  grand 
father  had  requested  jn  his  will  that  the  farms  might  be 
leased,  having  an  eye  to  my  children's  profit,  rather  than 
to  mine.  His  request  was  a  law  to  me,  and  I  had  fully  de 
termined  to  offer  the  unoccupied  lands  of  that  estate,  or 
quite  three-fourths  of  the  whole  patent,  on  leases  similar  in 
their  conditions  to  those  which  had  already  been  granted. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  was  the  intention  to  part  with  the  lots 
of  M ooseridge,  in  fee.  These  conditions  were  made  known 
to  the  axe-men,  as  my  first  essay  in  settling  a  new  country ; 
and  contrary  to  what  had  been  my  expectation,  I  soon  dis 
covered  that  these  adventurers  inclined  more  to  the  leases 
than  to  the  deeds.  It  is  true,  I  expected  a  small  payment 
down,  in  the  case  of  each  absolute  sale,  while  I  was  pre 
pared  to  grant  leases,  for  three  lives,  at  very  low  rents  at 
the  best;  and  in  the  cases  of  a  large  proportion  of  the  lots, 
those  that  were  the  least  eligible  by  situation,  or  through 
their  quality,  to  grant  them  leases  without  any  rent  at  all, 
for  the  few  first  years  of  their  occupation.  These  last  ad 
vantages,  and  the  opportunity  of  possessing  lands  a  goodly 
term  of  years,  for  rents  that  were  put  as  low  as  a  shilling 
an  acre,  were  strong  inducements,  as  I  soon  discovered, 
with  those  who  carried  all  they  were  worth  in  their  packs, 
and  who  thus  reserved  the  little  money  they  possessed  to 
supply  the  wants  of  their  future  husbandry. 

We  talked  these  matters  over  during  the  week  we  were 
on  board  the  sloop ;  and  by  the  time  we  came  in  sight  of  the 
steeples  of  Albany,  my  men's  minds  were  made  up  to  follow 
me  to  the  Nest.  These  steeples  were  then  two  in  number, 
viz :  that  of  the  English  church,  that  stood  near  the  margin 
of  the  town,  against  the  hill ;  and  that  of  the  Dutch  church, 
which  occupied  an  humbler  site,  on  the  low  land,  and  could 
scarcely  be  seen  rising  above  the  pointed  roofs  of  the  adja 
cent  houses ;  though  these  last,  themselves,  were  neither 
particularly  high  nor  particularly  imposing. 


83  THE    CHAINBEAREK. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  Who  is  that  graceful  female  here 

With  yon  red  hunter  of  the  deer  ? 
Ofgentle  mien  and  shape,  she  seems 

For  civil  halls  design'd ; 
Yet  with  the  stately  savage  walks, 

As  she  were  of  his  kind." 

PlNCKNEY. 

I  MA.DE  little  stay  in  Albany,  but,  giving  the  direction  to 
the  Patent  to  the  axe-men,  left  it  the  very  day  of  our  arrival. 
There  were  very  few  public  conveyances  in  that  early  day, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  hire  a  wagon  to  transport  Jaap  and 
myself,  with  our  effects,  to  Ravensnest.  A  sort  of  dull  calm 
had  come  over  the  country,  after  the  struggles  of  the  late 
war ;  but  one  interest  in  it  appearing  to  be  alive  and  very 
active.  That  interest,  fortunately  for  me,  appeared  to  be 
the  business  of  "  land-hunting"  and  "  settling."  Of  this,  I 
had  sufficient  proof  in  Albany  itself;  it  being  difficult  to 
enter  the  principal  street  of  that  town,  and  not  find  in  it 
more  or  less  of  these  adventurers,  the  emblems  of  whose 
pursuit  were  the  pack  and  the  axe.  Nine  out  of  ten  came 
from  the  eastern  or  New  England  States ;  then  the  most 
peopled,  while  they  were  not  very  fortunate  in  either  soil  or 
climate. 

We  were  two  days  in  reaching  Ravensnest,  a  property 
which  I  had  owned  for  several  years,  but  which  I  now  saw 
for  the  first  time.  My  grandfather  had  left  a  sort  of  an  agent 
on  the  spot,  a  person  of  the  name  of  Jason  Newcome,  who 
was  of  my  father,  the  general's  age,  and  who  had  once  been 
a  schoolmaster  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Satanstoe.  This 
agent  had  leased  extensively  himself,  and  was  said  to  be  the 
occupant  of  the  only  mills,  of  any  moment,  on  the  property. 
With  him  a  correspondence  had  been  maintained ;  and  once 
or  twice  during  the  war  my  father  had  managed  to  have  an 
interview  with  this  representative  of  his  and  my  interests. 
As  for  myself,  I  was  now  to  see  him  for  the  fir?-  *:vy>«.  We 


TIIECHAINBEAREIi.  89 

knew  each  other  by  reputation  only ;  and  certain  passages 
in  the  agency  had  induced  me  to  give  Mr.  Newcome  notice 
that  it  was  my  intention  to  make  a  change  in  the  manage 
ment  of  the  property. 

Any  one  who  is  familiar  with  the  aspect  of  things  in  what 
is  called  a  "  new  country"  in  America,  must  be  well  aware 
it  is  not  very  inviting.  The  lovers  of  the  picturesque  can 
have  little  satisfaction  in  looking  at  even  the  finest  natural 
scenery  at  such  moments ;  the  labour  that  has  been  effected 
usually  having  done  so  much  to  mar  the  beauties  of  nature, 
without  having  yet  had  time  to  supply  the  deficiencies  by 
those  of  art.  Piles  of  charred  or  half-burned  logs ;  fields 
covered  with  stumps,  or  ragged  with  stubs;  fences  of  the 
rudest  sorts,  and  filled  with  brambles ;  buildings  of  the 
meanest  character ;  deserted  clearings ;  and  all  the  other 
signs  of  a  vState  of  things  in  which  there  is  a  manifest  and 
constant  struggle  between  immediate  necessity  and  future 
expediency,  are  not  calculated  to  satisfy  either  the  hopes  or 
the  tastes.  Occasionally  a  different  state  of  things,  how 
ever,  under  circumstances  peculiarly  favourable,  does  exist; 
and  it  may  be  well  to  allude  to  it,  lest  the  reader  form  but  a 
single  picture  of  this  transition  state  of  American  life.  When 
the  commerce  of  the  country  is  active,  and  there  is  a  de 
mand  for  the  products  of  the  new  lands,  a  settlement  often 
presents  a  scene  of  activity  in  which  the  elements  of  a 
thriving  prosperity  make  themselves  apparent  amid  the 
^rnoke  of  fallows,  and  the  rudeness  of  border  life.  Neither, 
however,  was  the  case  at  Ravensnest,  when  I  first  visited 
the  place ;  though  the  last  was,  to  a  certain  extent,  its  con 
dition  two  or  three  years  later,  or  after  the  great  European 
war  brought  its  wheat  and  ashes  into  active  demand. 

I  found  but  few  more  signs  of  cultivation  between  the 
point  where  I  left  the  great  northern  road  and  the  bounds 
of  the  patent,  than  had  been  found  by  my  father,  as  he  has 
described  them  to  me  in  his  first  visit,  which  took  place  a 
quarter  of  a  century  earlier  than  this  of  mine.  There  was 
one  log  tavern,  it  is  true,  in  the  space  mentioned ;  but  it 
afforded  nothing  to  drink  but  rum,  and  nothing  to  eat  but 
salted  pork  and  potatoes,  the  day  I  stopped  there  to  dine. 
But  there  were  times  and  seasons  when,  by  means  of  veni 
son,  wild  fowl  and  fish,  a  luxurious  board  might  have  been 
8* 


90  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

spread.  That  this  was  not  the  opinion  of  my  landlady, 
nevertheless,  was  apparent  from  the  remarks  she  made 
while  I  was  at  table. 

"  You  are  lucky,  major  Littlepage,"  she  said,  "  in  not 
having  come  among  us  in  one  of  what  I  call  our  '  starving 
times'  —  and  awful  times  they  be,  if  a  body  may  say  what 
she  thinks  on  'em." 

"  Starvation  is  a  serious  matter  at  any  time,"  I  answered, 
"  though  I  did  not  know  you  ever  were  reduced  to  such 
difficulties  in  a  country  as  rich  and  abundant  as  this." 

"  Of  what  use  is  riches  and  abundance  if  a  man  will  do 
nothing  but  fish  and  shoot  ?  I  've  seen  the  day  when  there 
wasn't  a  mouthful  to  eat,  in  this  very  house,  but  a  dozen  or 
two  of  squabs,  a  string  of  brook-trout,  and  maybe  a  deer, 
or  a  salmon  from  one  of  the  lakes." 

"  A  little  bread  would  have  been  a  welcome  addition  to 
such  a  meal." 

"  Oh !  as  for  bread,  I  count  that  for  nothin'.  We  always 
have  bread  and  potatoes  enough  ;  but  I  hold  a  family  to  be 
in  a  desperate  way,  when  the  mother  can  see  the  bottom  of 
the  pork-barrel.  Give  me  children  that 's  raised  on  good 
sound  pork,  afore  all  the  game  in  the  country.  Game 's 
good  as  a  relish,  and  so 's  bread ;  but  pork  is  the  staff  of 
life !  To  have  good  pork,  a  body  must  have  good  corn ; 
and  good  corn  needs  hoeing ;  and  a  hoe  isn't  a  fish-pole,  or 
a  gun.  No,  my  children  I  calkerlate  to  bring  up  on  pork, 
with  just  as  much  bread  and  butter  as  they  may  want !" 

This  was  American  poverty  as  it  existed  in  1784.  Bread, 
butter  and  potatoes,  ad  libitum  ;  but  little  pork,  and  no  tea. 
Game  in  abundance  in  its  season ;  but  the  poor  man  who 
lived  on  game  was  supposed  to  be  keeping  just  as  poor  an 
establishment  as  the  epicure  in  town  who  gives  a  dinner  to 
his  brethren,  and  is  compelled  to  apologize  for  there  being 
no  game  in  the  market.  Curious  to  learn  more  from  this 
woman,  I  pursued  the  discourse. 

"  There  are  countries,  I  have  read,"  I  continued,  "  in 
which  the  poor  do  not  taste  meat  of  any  sort,  not  even  game, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  year  to  its  end ;  and,  sometimes, 
not  even  bread." 

"  Well,  I  'm  no  great  hand  for  bread,  as  I  said  afore, 
and  should  eat  no  great  matter  of  it,  so  long  as  I  could  get 


THECIIAINBEARER.  91 

pork,"  the  woman  answered,  evidently  interested  in  what  I 
had  said ;  "  but,  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  without  it  altogether ; 
and  the  children,  especially,  do  love  to  have  it -with  their 
butter.  Living  on  potatoes  alone  must  be  a  wild  animal 
sort  of  life!" 

"  Very  tame  animals  do  it,  and  that  from  dire  necessity." 

"  Is  there  any  law  ag'in  their  using  bread  and  meat?" 

"  No  other  law  than  the  one  which  forbids  their  using 
that  which  is  the  property  of  another." 

"  Good  land !"  This  is  a  very  common  American  ex 
pression  among  the  women — "  Good  land !  Why  don't  they 
go  to  work  and  get  in  crops,  so  they  might  live  a  little  ?" 

"  Simply  because  they  have  no  land  to  till.  The  land 
belongs  to  others,  too." 

"  I  should  think  they  might  hire,  if  they  couldn't  buy. 
It 's  about  as  good  to  hire  as  it  is  to  buy — some  folks  (folk) 
think  it 's  better.  Why  don't  they  take  land  on  shares,  and 
live?" 

"  Because  land,  itself,  is  not  to  be  had.  With  us,  land  is 
abundant ;  we  have  more  of  it  than  is  necessary,  or  than 
will  be  necessary,  for  ages  to  come ;  perhaps  it  would  be 
better  for  our  civilization  were  there  less  of  it  •  but,  in  the 
countries  of  which  I  speak,  there  are  more  people  than  there 
is  land." 

"  Well,  land  is  a  good  thing,  I  admit,  and  it 's  right  there 
should  be  an  owner  to  it ;  yet,  there  are  folks  who  would 
rather  squat  than  buy  or  hire,  any  day.  Squatting  comes 
nat'ral  to  'em." 

"  Are  there  many  squatters  in  this  part  of  the  country?" 

The  woman  looked  a  little  confused,  and  she  did  not  an 
swer  me,  until  she  had  taken  time  to  reflect  on  what  she 
should  say. 

"  Some  folks  call  us  squatters,  I  s'pose,"  was  the  reluctant 
answer,  "  but  /  do  not.  We  have  bought  the  betterments 
of  a  man  who  hadn't  much  of  a  title,  I  think  likely ;  but,  as 
we  bought  his  betterments  fairly,  Mr.  Tinkum,"  —  that  was 
the  husband's  name,  — "  is  of  opinion  that  we  live  under 
title,  as  it  is  called.  What  do  you  say  to  it,  major  Little- 
page?" 

"  I  can  only  say  that  nought  will  produce  nought;,  no 
thing,  nothing.  If  the  man  of  whom  you  purchased  owned 


92  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

nothing,  he  could  sell  nothing.  The  betterments  he  called 
his,  were  not  his ;  and  in  purchasing  them,  you  purchased 
what  he  did  not  own." 

"  Well,  it 's  no  great  shakes,  if  he  had'nt  any  right,  sin' 
Tinkum  only  gi'n  an  old  saddle,  that  warn't  worth  two  dol 
lars,  and  part  of  a  set  of  single  harness,  that  I  'd  defy  a 
conjurer  to  make  fit  any  mule,  for  the  whull  right.  One 
year's  rent  of  this  house  is  worth  all  put  together,  and  that 
twice  over,  if  the  truth  must  be  said ;  and  we  've  been  in  it, 
now,  seven  years.  My  four  youngest  were  all  born  under 
this  blessed  roof,  such  as  it  is !" 

"  In  that  case,  you  will  not  have  much  reason  to  com 
plain,  when  the  real  owner  of  the  soil  appears  to  claim  it. 
The  betterments  came  cheap,  and  they  will  go  as  cheap." 

"  That 's  just  it ;  though  I  don't  call  ourselves  much  of 
squatters,  a'ter  all,  seein'  we  have  paid  suthin'  for  the  better 
ments.  They  say  an  old  nail,  paid  in  due  form,  will  make 
a  sort  of  title  in  the  highest  court  of  the  State.  I  'm  sure 
the  laws  should  be  considerate  of  the  poor." 

"  Not  more  so  than  of  the  rich.  The  laws  should  be  equal 
and  just ;  and  the  poor  are  the  last  people  who  ought  to 
wish  them  otherwise,  since  they  are  certain  to  be  the  losers 
when  any  other  principle  governs.  Rely  on  it,  my  good 
woman,  the  man  who  is  for  ever  preaching  the  rights  of  the 
poor  is  at  bottom  a  rogue,  and  means  to  make  that  cry  a 
stalking-horse  for  his  own  benefit ;  since  nothing  can  serve 
the  poor  but  severe  justice.  No  class  suffers  so  much  by  a 
departure  from  the  rule,  as  the  rich  have  a  thousand  other 
means  of  attaining  their  ends,  when  the  way  is  left  clear  to 
them,  by  setting  up  any  other  master  than  the  right." 

"  I  don't  know  but  it  may  be  so ;  but  I  don't  call  our 
selves  squatters.  There  is  dreadful  squatters  about  here, 
though,  and  on  your  lands  too,  by  the  tell." 

"  On  my  lands !  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,  for  I  shall  feel  it 
a  duty  to  get  rid  of  them.  I  very  well  know  that  the  great 
abundance  of  land  that  we  have  in  the  country,  its  "little 
comparative  value,  and  the  distance  at  which  the  owners 
generally  reside  from  their  estates,  have  united  to  render  the 
people  careless  of  the  rights  of  those  who  possess  real  pro 
perty  ;  and  I  am  prepared  to  view  things  as  they  are  among 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  93 

ourselves,  rather  than  as  they  exist  in  older  countries ;  but 
I  shall  not  tolerate  squatters." 

"  Well,  by  all  I  hear,  I  think  you  '11  call  old  Andries,  the 
Chainbearer,  a  squatter  of  the  first  class.  They  tell  me  the 
old  chap  has  come  back  from  the  army  as  fierce  as  a  cata* 
mount,  and  that  there  is  no  speaking  to  him,  as  one  used  to 
could,  in  old  times." 

"  You  are,  then,  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  Chain- 
bearer  r 

"  I  should  think  I  was  !  Tinkum  and  I  have  lived  about, 
a  good  deal,  in  our  day;  and  old  Andries  is  a  desp'ate 
hand  for  the  woods.  He  surveyed  out  for  us,  once,  or  half- 
surveyed,  another  betterment ;  but  he  proved  to  be  a  spiteful 
rogue  afore  he  got  through  with  the  business ;  and  we  have 
not  set  much  store  by  him  ever  sin'  that  time." 

"  The  Chainbearer  a  rogue !  Andries  Coejemans  any- 
thing  but  an  honest  man  !  You  are  the  first  person,  Mrs. 
Tinkum,  I  have  ever  heard  call  in  question  his  sterling  in 
tegrity." 

"  Sterling  money  doesn't  pass  now,  I  conclude,  sin'  it  'a 
revolution  times.  We  all  know  which  side  your  family  was 
on  in  the  war,  major  Littlepage ;  so  it 's  no  offence  to  you. 
A  proper  sharp  look-out  they  had  of  it  here,  when  you  quit 
college ;  for  some  said  old  Herman  Mordaunt  had  ordered 
in  his  will  that  you  should  uphold  the  king ;  and  then,  most 
of  the  tenants  concluded  they  would  get  the  lands  altogether. 
It  is  a  sweet  thing,  major,  for  a  tenant  to  get  his  farm  with 
out  paying  for  it,  as  you  may  judge !  Some  folks  was  des- 
p'ate  sorry  when  they  heern  tell  that  the  Littlepages  went 
with  the  colonies." 

"  I  hope  there  are  few  such  knaves  on  the  Ravensnest 
estate  as  to  wish  anything  of  the  sort.  But,  let  me  hear  an 
explanation  of  your  charge  against  the  Chainbearer.  I 
have  no  great  concern  for  my  own  rights  in  the  patent  that 
I  claim." 

The  woman  had  the  audacity,  or  the  frankness,  to  draw 
a  long,  regretful  sigh,  as  it  might  be,  in  my  very  face.  That 
sigh  expressed  her  regrets  that  I  had  not  taken  part  with  the 
crown  in  the  last  struggle;  in  which  case,  I  do  suppose  she 
and  Tinkum  would  have  contrived  to  squat  on  one  of  the 


94  THE     CHAINBEARER 

farms  of  Ravensnest.  Having  sighed,  however,  the  landlady 
did  not  disdain  to  answer. 

"  As  for  the  Chainbearer,  the  simple  truth  is  this,"  she 
said.  "  Tinkum  hired  him  to  run  a  line  between  some 
betterments  we  had  bought,  and  some  that  had  been  bought 
by  a  neighbour  of  our'n.  This  was  long  afore  the  war,  and 
when  titles  were  scarcer  than  they  Jre  gettin'  to  be  now ; 
some  of  the  landlords  living  across  the  water.  Well,  what 
do  you  think  the  old  fellow  did,  major  1  He  first  asked  for 
our  deeds,  and  we  showed  them  to  him ;  as  good  and  lawful 
warrantees  as  was  ever  printed,  and  filled  up  by  a  'squire. 
He  then  set  to  work,  all  by  himself,  jobbing  the  whull  sur 
vey,  as  it  might  be,  and  a  prettier  line  was  never  run,  as  far 
as  he  went,  which  was  about  half-way.  I  thought  it  would 
make  etarnel  peace  atween  us  and  our  neighbour,  for  it  had 
been  etarnel  war  afore  that,  for  three  whull  years ;  some 
times  with  clubs,  and  sometimes  with  axes,  and  once  with 
scythes.  But,  somehow — I  never  know'd  how — but  somehow, 
old  Andries  found  out  that  the  man  who  deeded  to  us  had 
no  deed  to  himself,  or  no  mortal  right  to  the  land,  any  more 
than  that  sucking  pig  you  see  at  the  door  there ;  when  he 
gi'n  right  up,  refusing  to  carry  out  another  link,  or  p'int 
another  needle,  he  did!  Warn't  that  being  cross-grained 
and  wilful !  No,  there 's  no  dependence  to  be  put  on  the 
Chainbearer." 

"  Wilful  in  the  cause  of  right,  as  glorious  old  Andries 
always  is !  I  love  and  honour  him  all  the  better  for  it." 

"  La !  —  Do  you  love  and  honour  sich  a  one  as  him ! 
Well,  I  should  have  expected  suthin'  else  from  sich  a 
gentleman  as  you  !  I  'd  no  idee  major  Littlepage  could 
honour  an  old,  worn-out  Chainbearer,  and  he  a  man  that 
couldn't  get  up  in  the  world,  too,  when  he  had  hands  and 
feet,  all  on  'em  together,  on  some  of  the  very  best  rounds 
of  the  ladder !  Why,  I  judge  that  even  Tinkum  would  have 
gone  ahead,  if  he  had  been  born  with  sich  a  chance." 

"  Andries  has  been  a  captain  in  my  own  regiment,  it  is 
true,  and  was  once  my  superior  officer ;  but  he  served  for 
his  country's  sake,  and  not  for  his  own.  Have  you  seen 
him  lately?" 

"  That  have  we !  He  passed  here  about  a  twelvemonth 
ago,  with  his  whull  party,  on  their  way  to  squat  on  your 


THE    CH AINBE ARERo 

own  land,  or  I  'm  mistaken.  There  was  the  Chainbearer 
himself,  two  helpers,  Dus  and  young  Malbone." 

"  Young  who  ?"  I  asked,  with  an  interest  that  induced  the 
woman  to  turn  her  keen,  sunken,  but  sharp  grey  eyes,  in 
tently  on  me. 

"  Young  Malbone,  I  said  j  Dus'  brother,  and  the  young- 
ster  who  does  all  old  Andries'  'rithmetic.  I  suppose  you 
know  as  well  as  I  do,  that  the  Chainbearer  can't  calkerlate 
any  more  than  a  wild  goose,  and  not  half  as  well  as  a  crow. 
For  that  matter,  I  've  known  crows  that,  in  plantin'  time, 
would  measure  a  field  in  half  the  number  of  minutes  that 
the  State  surveyor  would  be  hours  at." 

"  This  young  Malbone,  then,  is  the  Chainbearer's  ne 
phew  ? — And  he  it  is  who  does  the  surveying  ?" 

"  He  does  the  'rithmetic  part,  and  he  is  a  brother  of  old 
Andries'  niece.  I  know'd  the  Coejemans  when  I  was  a  gal, 
and  I  've  known  the  Malbones  longer  than  I  want  to  know 
them." 

"  Have  you  any  fault  to  find  with  the  family,  that  you 
speak  thus  of  them  ?" 

"  Nothin'  but  their  desperate  pride,  which  makes  them 
think  themselves  so  much  better  than  everybody  else  ;  yel, 
they  tell  me,  Dus  and  all  on  'em  are  just  as  poor  as  I  am 
myself." 

"  Perhaps  you  mistake  their  feeling,  good  woman ;  a 
thing  I  think  the  more  probable,  as  you  seem  to  fancy  mo 
ney  the  source  of  their  pride,  at  the  very  moment  you  deny 
their  having  any.  Money  is  a  thing  on  which  few  persons 
of  cultivated  minds  pride  themselves.  The  purse-proud  are, 
almost  invariably,  the  vulgar  and  ignorant." 

No  doubt  this  was  a  moral  thrown  away  with  such  an 
auditor ;  but  I  was  provoked  ;  and  when  a  man  is  provoked, 
he  is  not  always  wise.  The  answer  showed  the  effect  it  had 
produced. 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  know  how  that  is ;  but,  if  it  isn't 
pride,  what  is  it  that  makes  Dus  Malbone  so  different  from 
my  da'ters  ?  She  'd  no  more  think  of  being  like  one  on  'em, 
scouring  about  the  lots,  riding  bare-backed,  and  scampering 
through  the  neighbourhood,  than  you  'd  think  of  cooking 
my  dinner — that  she  wouldn't." 

Poor  Mrs.  Tinkum  —  or,  as  she  would  have  been  apt  to 


96  THE    CHAINBEARER 

call  herself,  Miss  Tinkum !  She  had  betrayed  one  of  the 
commonest  weaknesses  of  human  nature,  in  thus  imputing 
pride  to  the  Chainbearer's  niece  because  the  latter  behaved 
differently  from  her  and  her's.  How  many  persons  in  this 
good  republic  of  ours  judge  their  neighbours  on  precisely 
the  same  principle ;  inferring  something  unsuitable,  because 
it  seems  to  reflect  on  their  own  behaviour !  But,  by  this 
time,  I  had  got  to  hear  the  name  of  Dus  with  some  interest, 
and  I  felt  disposed  to  push  the  subject  further. 

"  Miss  Malbone,  then,"  I  said,  "  does  not  ride  bare 
backed?" 

"  La  !  major,  what  in  natur'  puts  it  into  your  head  to  call 
the  gal  Miss  Malbone  !  —  There 's  no  Miss  Malbone  living 
sin'  her  own  mother  died." 

"  Well,  Dus  Malbone,  I  mean ;  she  is  above  riding  bare 
backed?" 

"  That  she  is ;  even  a  pillion  would  be  hardly  grand 
enough  for  her,  allowing  her  own  brother  to  use  the 
saddle."  .. 

"  Her  own  brother  ?  —  This  young  surveyor,  then,  is 
Dus's  brother?" 

"  Sort  o',  and  sort  o'  not,  like.  They  had  the  same  father, 
but  different  mothers." 

"  That  explains  it ;  I  never  heard  the  Chainbearer  speak 
of  any  nephew,  and  it  seems  the  young  man  is  not  related 
to  him  at  all — he  is  the  half -brother  of  his  niece." 

"  Why  can't  that  niece  behave  like  other  young  women? 
that 's  the  question  I  ask.  My  gals  hasn't  as  much  pride  as 
would  be  good  for  'em,  not  they !  If  a  body  wants  to  bor 
row  an  article  over  at  the  Nest,  and  that 's  seven  miles  off, 
the  whull  way  in  the  woods,  just  name  it  to  Poll,  and  she  'd 
jump  on  an  ox,  if  there  warn't  a  hoss,  and  away  she  'd  go 
a'ter  it,  with  no  more  bit  of  a  saddle,  and  maybe  nothin'  but 
a  halter,  like  a  deer !  Give  me  Poll,  afore  all  the  gals  1 
know,  for  ar'nds  !" 

By  this  time,  disrelish  for  vulgarity  was  getting  the  better 
of  curiosity  ;  and  my  dinner  of  fried  pork  being  done,  I  was 
willing  to  drop  the  discourse.  I  had  learned  enough  of  An- 
dries  and  his  party  to  satisfy  my  curiosity,  and  Jaap  was 
patiently  waiting  to  succeed  me  at  table.  Throwing  down 
the  amount  of  the  bill,  I  took  a  fowling-piece  with  which  we 


THECHAINBEARER.  97 

always  travelled  in  those  days,  bade  Mrs.  Tinkum  good-day, 
ordered  the  black  and  the  wagoner  to  follow  with  the  team 
as  soon  as  ready,  and  went  on  towards  my  own  property 
on  foot. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  I  was  quite  beyond  the  Tinkum 
betterments,  and  fairly  in  the  forest  again.  It  happened  that 
the  title  to  a  large  tract  of  land  adjoining  Ravensnest  was  in 
dispute,  and  no  attempt  at  a  serious  settlement  had  ever  been 
made  on  it.  Some  one  had  "  squatted"  at  this  spot,  to  enjoy 
the  advantage  of  selling  rum  to  those  who  went  and  came 
between  my  own  people  and  the  inner  country ;  and  the 
place  had  changed  hands  half  a  dozen  times,  by  fraudulent, 
or  at  least  by  worthless  sales,  from  one  squatter  to  another. 
Around  the  house,  by  this  time  a  decaying  pile  of  logs,  time 
had  done  a  part  of  the  work  of  the  settler,  and  aided  by  that 
powerful  servant  but  fearful  master,  fire,  had  given  to  the 
small  clearing  somewhat  of  the  air  of  civilized  cultivation. 
The  moment  these  narrow  limits  were  passed,  however,  the 
traveller  entered  the  virgin  forest,  with  no  other  sign  of  man 
around  him  than  what  was  offered  in  the  little-worked  and 
lit'le-travelled  road.  The  highway  was  not  much  indebted 
to  the  labours  of  man  for  any  facilities  it  afforded  the  tra 
veller.  The  trees  had  been  cut  out  of  it,  it  is  true,  but  their 
roots  had  not  been  extracted,  and  time  had  done  more  to 
wards  destroying  them  than  the  axe  or  the  pick.  Time  had 
done  a  good  deal,  however,  and  the  inequalities  were  getting 
to  be  smooth  under  the  hoof  and  the  wheel.  A  tolerably 
good  bridle-path  had  long  been  made,  and  I  found  no  diffi 
culty  in  walking  in  it,  since  that  answered  equally  well  for 
man  or  beast. 

The  virgin  forest  of  America  is  usually  no  place  for  the 
ordinary  sportsman.  The  birds  that  are  called  game  are 
but  rarely  found  in  it,  one  or  two  excepted ;  and  it  is  a  well- 
known  fact,  that  while  the  frontier-man  is  certain  death  with 
a  rifle-bullet,  knocking  the  head  off  a  squirrel  or  a  wild 
turkey  at  his  sixty  or  eighty  yards,  it  is  necessary  to  go  into 
the  older  parts  of  the  country,  and  principally  among  sports 
men  of  the  better  classes,  in  order  to  find  those  who  knock 
over  the  woodcock,  snipe,  quail,  grouse  and  plover,  on  the 
wing.  I  was  thought  a  good  shot  on  the  "  plains,"  and  over 
the  heaths  or  commons  of  the  island  of  Manhattan,  an<J 


US  THE    CHAIN  BEAKER. 

among  the  necks  of  Westchester ;  but  I  saw  nothing  to  do 
up  there,  where  I  then  was,  surrounded  by  trees  that  had 
stood  their  centuries.  It  would  certainly  have  been  easy 
enough  for  me  to  kill  a  blue-jay,  now  and  then,  or  a  crow, 
or  even  a  raven,  and  perhaps  an  eagle,  had  I  the  propel 
shot ;  but,  as  for  anything  that  ordinarily  is  thought  to  adorn 
a  game-bag,  not  a  feather  could  I  see.  For  the  want  of 
something  better  to  do,  then,  if  a  young  man  of  three  or  four- 
and-twenty  ought  thus  to  express  himself,  I  began  to  rumi 
nate  on  the  charms  of  Pris.  Bayard,  and  on  the  singularities 
of  Dus  Malbone.  In  this  mood  I  proceeded,  getting  over  the 
grounds  at  a  rapid  rate,  leaving  Miss  Tinkum,  the  clearing 
with  its  betterments,  and  the  wagon,  far  behind  me. 

I  had  walked  an  hour  alone,  when  the  silence  of  the  woods 
was  suddenly  interrupted  by  the  words  of  a  song  that  came 
not  from  any  of  the  feathered  race,  though  the  nightingale 
itself  could  hardly  have  equalled  the  sweetness  of  the  notes, 
which  were  those  of  a  female  voice.     The  low  notes  struck 
me  as  the  fullest,  richest,  and  most  plaintive  I  had  evei 
heard ;  and  I  fancied  they  could  not  be  equalled,  until  the 
strain  carried  the  singer's  voice  into  a  higher  key,  where  it 
seemed  equally  at  home.     I  thought  I  knew  the  air,  but  the 
words  were  guttural,  and  in  an  unknown  tongue.     French 
and  Dutch  were  the  only  two  foreign  languages  in  which 
one  usually  heard  any  music  in  our  part  of  the  woods  at  that 
day ;  and  even  the  first  was  by  no  means  common.     But 
with  both  these  languages  I  had  a  little  acquaintance,  and  1 
was  soon  satisfied  that  the  words  I  heard  belonged  to  nei  • 
ther.     At  length,  it  flashed  on  my  mind  that  the  song  was 
Indian  ;  not  the  music,  but  the  words.    The  music  was  cer 
tainly  Scotch,  or  that  altered  Italian  that  time  has  attribu  t» 
to  the  Scotch ;  and  there  was  a  moment  when  I  fanciet  1 
some  Highland  girl  was  singing  near  me  one  of  the  Celt/ 
songs  of  the  country  of  her  childhood.    But,  closer  attentiu/ 
satisfied  me  that  the  words  were  really  Indian ;  probably 
belonging  to  the  Mohawk,  or  some  other  language  that  I  hat  I 
often  heard  spoken. 

The  reader  may  be  curious  to  know  whence  these  sounds 
proceeded,  and  why  I  did  not  see  the  being  who  gave  birtl  i 
to  such  delicious  harmony.     It  was  owing  to  the  fact  tha 
the  «ong  came  from  oi\t  of  a  thicket  of  young  pines?  tlj3 


THECHAINBEARER.  99 

grew  on  an  ancient  opening  at  a  little  distance  from  the 
road,  and  which  I  supposed  contained  a  hut  of  some  sort  or 
other.  These  pines,  however,  completely  concealed  all 
within  them.  So  long  as  the  song  lasted,  no  tree  of  the 
forest  was  more  stationary  than  myself;  but,  when  it  ended, 
I  was  about  to  advance  towards  the  thicket,  in  order  to  pry 
into  its  mysteries,  when  I  heard  a  laugh  that  had  scarcely 
less  of  melody  in  it  than  the  strains  of  the  music  itself.  It 
was  not  a  vulgar,  clamorous  burst  of  girlish  impulses,  nor 
was  it  even  loud ;  but  it  was  light-hearted,  mirthful,  indi 
cating  humour,  if  a  mere  laugh  can  do  so  much ;  and,  in  a 
sense,  it  was  contagious.  It  arrested  my  movement,  in 
order  to  listen ;  and,  before  any  new  impulse  led  me  for 
ward,  the  branches  of  the  pines  opened,  and  a  man  passed 
out  of  the  thicket  into  the  road.  A  single  glance  sufficed  to 
let  me  know  that  the  stranger  was  an  Indian. 

Notwithstanding  I  was  apprised  of  the  near  vicinity  of 
others,  I  was  a  little  startled  with  this  sudden  apparition. 
Not  so  with  him  who  was  approaching :  he  could  not  have 
known  of  my  being  anywhere  near  him ;  yet  he  manifested 
no  emotion  as  his  cold,  undisturbed  glance  fell  on  my  form. 
Steadily  advancing,  he  came  to  the  centre  of  the  road ;  and, 
as  I  had  turned  involuntarily  to  pursue  my  own  way,  not 
sure  it  was  prudent  to  remain  in  that  neighbourhood  alone, 
the  red  man  fell  in,  with  his  moccasined  foot,  at  my  elbow , 
and  I  found  that  we  were  thus  strangely  pursuing  our  jour 
ney,  in  the  same  direction,  side  by  side. 

The  Indian  and  myself  walked  in  this  manner,  within  a 
yard  of  each  other,  in  the  midst  of  that  forest,  for  two  or 
three  minutes  without  speaking.  I  forbore  to  say  anything, 
because  I  had  heard  that  an  Indian  respected  those  most 
who  knew  best  how  to  repress  their  curiosity  ;  which  habit, 
most  probably,  had  its  effect  on  my  companion.  At  length, 
the  red  man  uttered,  in  the  deep,  guttural  manner  of  his 
people,  the  common  conventional  salutation  of  the  fron 
tier — 

"Sa-a-go?" 

This  word,  which  has  belonged  to  some  Indian  language 
once,  passes  everywhere  for  Indian  with  the  white  man ; 
and,  quite  likely  for  English,  with  the  Indian.  A  set  of  such 
terms  has  grown  up  between  the  tw»  races,  including  such 


100  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

words  as  "moccasin,"  "pappoose,"  "tomahawk,"  "squaw, 
and  many  others.     "  Sa-a-go,"  means  "  how  d'ye  do  ?" 

"  Sa-a-go  ?"  —  I  answered  to  my  neighbour's  civil  salu 
tation. 

After  this  we  walked  along  for  a  few  minutes  more,  nei 
ther  party  speaking.  I  took  this  opportunity  to  examine  my 
red  brother,  an  employment  that  was  all  the  easier  from  the 
circumstance  that  he  did  not  once  look  at  me ;  the  single 
glance  sufficing  to  tell  him  all  he  wanted  to  know.  In  the 
first  place,  I  was  soon  satisfied  that  my  companion  did  not 
drink,  a  rare  merit  in  a  red  man  who  lived  near  the  whites. 
This  was  evident  from  his  countenance,  gait,  and  general 
bearing,  as  I  thought,  in  addition  to  the  fact  that  he  possessed 
no  bottle,  or  anything  else  that  would  hold  liquor.  What  I 
liked  the  least  was  the  circumstance  of  his  being  completely 
armed  ;  carrying  knife,  tomahawk  and  rifle,  and  each  seem 
ingly  excellent  of  its  kind.  He  was  not  painted,  however, 
and  he  wore  an  ordinary  calico  shirt,  as  was  then  the  usual 
garb  of  his  people,  in  the  warm  season.  The  countenance 
had  the  stern  severity  that  is  so  common  to  a  red  warrior ; 
and,  as  this  man  was  turned  of  fifty,  his  features  began  to 
show  the  usual  signs  of  exposure  and  service.  Still,  he  was 
a  vigorous,  respectable-looking  red-man,  and  one  who  was 
evidently  accustomed  to  live  much  among  civilized  men.  I 
had  no  serious  uneasiness,  of  course,  at  meeting  such  a  per 
son,  although  we  were  so  completely  buried  in  the  forest ; 
but,  as  a  soldier,  I  could  not  help  reflecting  how  inferior 
my  fowling-piece  would  necessarily  prove  to  be  to  his  rifle 
should  he  see  fit  to  turn  aside,  and  pull  upon  me  from  be 
hind  a  tree,  for  the  sake  of  plunder.  Tradition  said  such 
things  had  happened ;  though,  on  the  whole,  the  red-man 
of  America  has  perhaps  proved  to  be  the  most  honest  of  the 
two,  as  compared  with  those  who  have  supplanted  him. 

"  How  ole  chief?"  the  Indian  suddenly  asked,  without 
even  raising  his  eyes  from  the  road. 

"  Old  chief!     Do  you  mean  Washington,  my  friend  ?" 

"  Not  so  —  mean  ole  chief,  out  here,  at  Nest.  Mean 
fader." 

"  My  father !     Do  you  know  general  Littlepage  ?" 

"  Be  sure,  know  him.  Your  fader  —  see"  —  holding  up 
nis  two  fore-fingers  —  "just  like  —  dat  him;  di§  you." 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  101 

"  This  is  singular  enough !  And  were  you  told  that  I 
was  coming  to  this  place?" 

"  Hear  dat,  too.     Always  talk  about  chief." 

"  Is  it  long  since  you  saw  my  father  ?" 

"  See  him  in  war-time — nebber  hear  of  ole  Sureflint  ?" 

I  had  heard  the  officers  of  our  regiment  speak  of  such  an 
Indian,  who  had  served  a  good  deal  with  the  corps,  and 
been  exceedingly  useful,  in  the  two  great  northern  cam 
paigns  especially.  He  never  happened  to  be  with  the  regi 
ment  after  I  joined  it,  though  his  name  and  services  were  a 
good  deal  mixed  up  with  the  adventures  of  1776  and  17T7. 

"  Certainly,"  I  answered,  shaking  the  red-man  cordially 
by  the  hand.  "  Certainly,  have  I  heard  of  you,  and  some 
thing  that  is  connected  with  times  before  the  war.  Did  you 
never  meet  my  father  before  the  war?" 

"  Sartain ;  meet  in  ole  war.  Gin'ral  young  man,  den— - 
just  like  son." 

"  By  what  name  were  you  then  known,  Oneida?" 

"  No  Oneida — Onondago — sober  tribe.  Hab  plenty  name. 
Sometime  one,  sometime  anoder.  Pale  face  say  '  Trackless,' 
cause  he  can't  find  his  trail  —  warrior  call  him  '  Sus- 
quesus.' " 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

u  With  what  free  growth  the  elm  and  plans 
Fling  their  huge  arm  across  my  way ; 
Grey,  old,  and  cumber'd  with  a  train 
Of  vines,  as  huge,  and  old,  and  grey ! 
Free  stray  the  lucid  streams,  and  find 
No  taint  in  these  fresh  lawns  and  shades ; 


Free  spring  the  flowers  that  scent  the  wind 
"Where  never  scythe  has  swept  the  glades." 


BRYANT. 


I  HAD  heard  enough  of  my  father's  early  adventures  to 
know  that  the  man  mentioned  in  the  last  chapter  had  been  a 
conspicuous  actor  in  them,  and  remembered  that  the  latter 
enjoyed  the  fullest  confidence  of  the  former.  It  was  news 
to  me,  however,  that  Sureflint  and  the  Trackless  were  the 
9* 


102  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

same  person ;  though,  when  I  came  to  reflect  on  the  past,  I 
had  some  faint  recollection  of  having  once  before  heard 
something  of  the  sort.  At  any  rate,  I  was  now  with  a  friend, 
and  no  longer  thought  it  necessary  to  be  on  my  guard.  This 
was  a  great  relief,  in  every  point  of  view,  as  one  does  not 
like  to  travel  at  the  side  of  a  stranger,  with  an  impression, 
however  faint,  that  the  latter  may  blow  his  brains  out,  the 
first  time  he  ventures  to  turn  his  own  head  aside. 

Susquesus  was  drawing  near  to  the  decline  of  life.  Had 
he  been  a  white  man,  I  might  have  said  he  was  in  a  "  green 
old  age ;"  but  the  term  of  "  red  old  age"  would  suit  him 
much  better.  His  features  were  still  singularly  fine ;  while 
the  cheeks,  without  being  very  full,  had  that  indurated,  solid 
look,  that  flesh  and  muscles  get  from  use  and  exposure.  His 
form  was  as  erect  as  in  his  best  days,  a  red-man's  frame 
rarely  yielding  in  this  way  to  any  pressure  but  that  of  ex 
ceeding  old  age,  and  that  of  rum.  Susquesus  never  admitted 
the  enemy  into  his  mouth,  and  consequently  the  citadel  of 
his  physical  man  was  secure  against  every  invader  but  time. 
In-toed  and  yielding  in  his  gait,  the  old  warrior  and  runner 
still  passed  over  the  ground  with  an  easy  movement ;  and, 
when  I  had  occasion  to  see  him  increase  his  speed,  as  soon 
after  occurred,  I  did  not  fail  to  perceive  that  his  sinews 
seemed  strung  to  their  utmost  force,  and  that  every  move 
ment  was  free. 

For  a  time,  the  Indian  and  I  talked  of  the  late  war,  and 
of  the  scenes  in  which  each  of  us  had  been  an  actor.  If  my 
own  modesty  was  as  obvious  as  that  of  Sureflint,  I  had  no 
reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  myself;  for,  the  manner  in 
which  he  alluded  to  events  in  which  I  knew  he  had  been 
somewhat  prominent,  was  simple  and  entirely  free  from, 
that  boasting  in  which  the  red-man  is  prone  to  indulge; 
more  especially  when  he  wishes  to  provoke  his  enemies. 
At  length  I  changed  the  current  of  the  discourse,  by  saying 
abruptly — 

"  You  were  not  alone  in  that  pine  thicket,  Susquesus ; 
that  from  which  you  came,  when  you  joined  me  ?" 

«  No — sartain ;  wasn't  alone.     Plenty  people  dere." 

"  Is  there  an  encampment  of  your  tribe  among  those 
bushes?" 

A  shade  passed  over  the  dark  countenance  of  my  com> 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  103 

panion,  and  I  saw  a  question  had  been  asked  that  gave  him 
pain.  He  paused  some  little  time  before  he  answered ;  and, 
when  he  did,  it  was  in  a  way  that  seemed  sad. 

"  Susquesus  got  tribe  no  longer.  Quit  Onondagos  t'irty 
?ummer,  now ;  don't  like  Mohawk." 

"  I  remember  to  have  heard  something  of  this  from  my 
father,  who  told  me  at  the  same  time,  that  the  reason  why 
you  left  your  people  was  to  your  credit.  But,  you  had  music 
in  the  thicket  1" 

"  Yes ;  gal  sing — gal  love  sing ;  warrior  like  listen." 

"  And  the  song? — In  what  language  were  the  words?" 

"  Onondago" — answered  the  Indian,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  I  had  no  idea  the  music  of  the  red  people  was  so  sweet. 
It  is  many  a  day  since  I  have  heard  a  song  that  went  so 
near  to  my  heart,  though  I  could  not  understand  what  was 
said." 

"  Bird,  pretty  bird — sing  like  wren." 

"  And  is  there  much  of  this  music  in  your  family,  Susr- 
quesus  1  If  so,  I  shall  come  often  to  listen." 

"  Why  not  come  ?  Path  got  no  briar ;  short  path,  too. 
Gal  sing,  when  you  want." 

"  Then  I  shall  certainly  be  your  guest,  some  day,  soon. 
Where  do  you  live,  now?  Are  you  Sureflint,  or  Trackless, 
to-day  ?  I  see  you  are  armed,  but  not  painted." 

"  Hatchet  buried  berry  deep,  dis  time.  No  dig  him  up, 
in  great  many  year.  Mohawk  make  peace;  Oneida  make 
peace;  Onondago  make  peace — all  bury  'e  hatchet." 

"  Well,  so  much  the  better  for  us  landholders.  I  have 
v',ome  to  sell  and  lease  my  lands ;  perhaps  you  can  tell  mo 
.  f  many  young  men  are  out  hunting  for  farms  this  sum 
mer?" 

"  Wood  full.     Plenty  as  pigeon.     How  you  sell  land  ?" 

"  That  will  depend  on  where  it  is,  and  how  good  it  is. 
I  )o  you  wish  to  buy,  Trackless  ?" 

"  Injin  own  all  land,  for  what  he  want,  now.  I  make 
wigwam  where  I  want ;  make  him,  too,  when  I  want." 

"I  know  very  well  that  you  Indians  do  claim  such  a 
i  ight ;  and,  so  long  as  the  country  remains  in  its  present 
wild  state,  no  one  will  be  apt  to  refuse  it  to  you.  But,  you 
oannot  plant  and  gather,  as  most  of  your  people  do  in  their 
own  country." 


104  THE     CHAINBEARER* 

"  Got  no  squaw  —  got  no  pappoose  —  little  corn  do  for 
Susquesus.  No  tribe  —  no  squaw  —  no  pappoose !" 

This  was  said  in  a  low,  deliberate  voice,  and  with  a  species 
of  manly  melancholy  that  I  found  very  touching.  Com 
plaining  men  create  very  little  sympathy,  and  those  who 
whine  are  apt  to  lose  our  respect ;  but,  I  know  no  spectacle 
more  imposing  than  that  of  one  of  stern  nature  smothering 
his  sorrows  beneath  the  mantle  of  manliness  and  self-com 
mand. 

"  You  have  friends,  Susquesus,"  I  answered,  "  if  you 
have  no  wife  nor  children." 

"  Fader,  good  friend  ;  hope  son  friend,  too.  Grandfader 
great  friend,  once ;  but  he  gone  far  away,  and  nebber  come 
back.  Know  moder,  know  fader — all  good." 

"  Take  what  land  you  want,  Trackless — till  it,  sell  it — 
do  what  you  wish  with  it." 

The  Indian  eyed  me  keenly,  and  I  detected  a  slight  smile 
of  pleasure  stealing  over  his  weather-worn  face.  It  was  not 
easy  to  throw  him  off  his  habitual  guard  over  his  emotions, 
however ;  and  the  gleam  of  illumination  passed  away,  like  a 
ray  of  sunshine  in  mid-winter.  The  sternest  white  man 
might  have  grasped  my  hand,  and  something  like  a  sign  of 
gratitude  would  probably  have  escaped  him ;  but,  the  little 
trace  of  emotion  I  have  mentioned  having  disappeared,  no 
thing  remained  on  the  dark  visage  of  my  companion  that, 
in  the  least,  resembled  an  evidence  of  yielding  to  any  of  the 
gentler  feelings.  Nevertheless,  he  was  too  courteous,  and 
had  too  much  of  the  innate  sentiment  of  a  gentleman,  not  to 
make  some  return  for  an  offer  that  had  so  evidently  and 
spontaneously  come  from  the  heart. 

"  Good"  —  he  said,  after  a  long  pause.  "  Berry  good, 
dat;  good,  to  come  from  young  warrior  to  ole  warrior. 
T'ankee  —  bird  plenty ;  fish  plenty ;  message  plenty,  now ; 
and  don't  want  land.  Time  come,  maybe — s'pose  he  must 
come  —  come  to  all  ole  red-men,  hereabout;  so  s'pose  must 
come." 

"  What  time  do  you  mean,  Trackless  ?  Let  it  come  when 
it  may,  you  have  a  friend  in  me.  What  time  do  you  mean, 
my  brave  old  Sureflint  ?" 

The  Trackless  stopped,  dropped  the  breech  of  his  rifle  oa 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  105 

the  ground,  and  stood  meditating  a  minute,  motionless,  and 
as  grand  as  some  fine  statue. 

"  Yes ;  time  come,  do  s'pose,"  he  continued.  "  One  time, 
ole  warrior  live  in  wigwam,  and  tell  young  warrior  of  scalp, 
and  council-fire,  and  hunt,  and  war-path  ;  now,  make  broom 
and  basket." 

It  was  not  easy  to  mistake  this ;  and  I  do  not  remember 
ever  to  have  felt  so  lively  an  interest,  on  so  short  an  ac 
quaintance,  as  I  began  to  feel  in  this  Onondago.  Priscilla 
Bayard  herself,  however  lovely,  graceful,  winning  and 
feminine,  had  not  created  a  feeling  so  strong  and  animated, 
as  that  which  was  awakened  within  me  in  behalf  of  old 
Sureflint.  But,  I  fully  understood  that  this  was  to  be  shown 
in  acts,  and  not  in  words.  Contenting  myself  for  the  present, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  pale-faces,  by  grasping  and  squeezing 
the  sinewy  hand  of  the  warrior,  we  walked  on  together, 
making  no  farther  allusion  to  a  subject  that,  I  can  truly  say, 
was  as  painful  to  me  as  it  was  to  my  companion. 

"  I  have  heard  your  name  mentioned  as  one  of  those  who 
were  at  the  Nest  with  my  father,  when  he  was  a  young 
man,  Susquesus,"  I  resumed,  "  and  when  the  Canada  In 
dians  attempted  to  burn  the  house." 

"  Good  —  Susquesus  dere  —  young  Dutch  chief  kill  dat 
time." 

"  Very  true  —  his  name  was  Guert  Ten  Eyck ;  and  my 
father  and  mother,  and  your  old  friend  colonel  Pollock, 
who  was  afterwards  major  of  our  regiment,  you  will  re 
member,  they  love  his  memory  to  this  day,  as  that  of  a  very 
dear  friend." 

"  Dat  all,  love  memory,  now  ?"  asked  the  Indian,  throw 
ing  one  of  his  keenest  glances  at  me. 

I  understood  the  allusion,  which  was  to  aunt  Mary,  whom 
I  had  heard  spoken  of  as  the  betrothed,  or,  at  least,  as  the 
beloved,  of  the  young  Albanian. 

"  Not  all ;  for  there  is  a  lady,  who  still  mourns  his  loss, 
as  if  she  had  been  his  widow." 

"  Good — do5  squaw  don't  mourn  fery  long  time.  Some 
time  ;  not  always." 

"  Pray,  Trueflint,  do  you  happen  to  know  anything  of  a 
man  called  the  Chainbearer  ?  He  was  in  the  regiment,  too 
and  you  must  have  seen  him  in  the  war." 


106  THE    CHAINBEAREH. 

"  Sartain — know  Chainbearer — know  him  on  war-path-* 
know  him  when  hatchet  buried.  Know  Chainbearer  afore 
ole  French  war.  Live  in  wood  wid  him — one  of  its.  Chain- 
bearer  my  friend." 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  this,  for  he  is  also  mine;  and  I  shall  be 
glad  to  come  into  the  compact,  as  a  friend  of  both." 

"  Good — Susquesus  and  young  landlord  friend  of  Chain- 
bearer — good." 

"  It  is  good,  and  a  league  that  shall  not  be  forgotten 
easily  by  me.  The  Chainbearer  is  as  honest  as  light,  and 
as  certain  as  his  own  compass,  Trueflint  —  true,  as  your 
self." 

"  'Fraid  he  make  broom  'fore  great  while,  too,"  said  the 
Indian,  expressing  the  regret  I  have  no  doubt  he  felt,  very 
obviously  in  his  countenance. 

Poor  old  Andries  !  But  for  the  warm  and  true  friends  he 
had  in  my  father,  colonel  Dirck  and  myself,  there  was  some 
danger  this  might  be  the  case,  indeed.  The  fact  that  he  had 
served  his  country  in  a  revolution  would  prove  of  little  avail, 
that  country  being  too  poor  to  provide  for  its  old  servants, 
and  possibly  indisposed,  had  she  the  means.*  I  say  this 
without  intending  to  reflect  on  either  the  people  or  the  go 
vernment  ;  for,  it  is  not  easy  to  make  the  men  of  the  present 
day  understand  the  deep  depression,  in  a  pecuniary  sense, 
that  rested  on  the  land  for  a  year  or  two  after  peace  was 
made.  It  recovered,  as  the  child  recovers  from  indisposition, 
by  the  vigour  of  its  constitution  and  the  power  of  its  vitality  ; 
and  one  of  the  means  by  which  it  recovered,  was  by  turning 

*  This  must  pass  for  one  of  the  hits  the  republic  is  exposed  to, 
partly  because  it  deserves  them,  and  partly  because  it  is  a  republic. 
One  hears  a  great  deal  of  this  ingratitude  of  republics,  but  few  take 
the  trouble  of  examining  into  the  truth  of  the  charge,  or  its  reason, 
if  true.  I  suppose  the  charge  to  be  true,  in  part,  and  for  the  obvious 
reason  that  a  government  founded  on  the  popular  will  is  necessarily 
impulsive  in  such  matters,  and  feels  no  necessity  to  be  just,  in  order 
to  be  secure.  Then,  a  democracy  is  always  subject  to  the  influence 
of  the  cant  of  economy,  which  is  next  thing  to  the  evil  of  being  ex 
posed  to  the  waste  and  cupidity  of  those  who  take  because  they  have 
the  power.  As  respects  the  soldiers  of  the  revolution,  however,  Ame 
rica,  under  the  impulsive  feeling,  rather  than  in  obedience  to  a  calm, 
deliberate  desire  to  be  just,  has,  since  the  time  of  Mr.  Mordaunt  Little- 
page,  made  such  a  liberal  provision  for  pensioning  them,  as  to  include 
a  good  many  of  her  enemies,  as  well  as  all  her  friends.  —  EDITOR. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  107 

to  the  soil,  and  wielding  the  sickle  instead  of  the  sword.  To 
continue  the*  discourse. 

"  The  Chainbearer  is  an  honest  man,  and,  like  too  many 
of  his  class,  poor,"  I  answered ;  "  but,  he  has  friends  ;  and 
.'*-ither  he,  nor  you,  Sureflint,  shall  be  reduced  to  that  wo- 
.  iian's  work  without  your  own  consent,  so  long  as  I  have 
an  unoccupied  house,  or  a  farm,  at  Ravensnest." 

Again  the  Indian  manifested  his  sense  of  my  friendship 
for  him,  by  that  passing  gleam  on  his  dark  face ;  and  again 
all  signs  of  emotion  passed  slowly  away. 

"  How  long  since  see  him  ?"  he  asked  me,  suddenly. 

"  See  him  —  the  Chainbearer  do  you  mean  1  I  have  not 
seen  him,  now,  for  more  than  a  twelvemonth  ;  not  since  we 
parted  when  the  regiment  was  disbanded." 

"  Don't  mean  Chainbearer  —  mean  him"  pointing  ahead 
— "  house,  tree,  farm,  land,  Nest." 

"  Oh  !  How  long  is  it  since  I  saw  the  patent.  I  never 
saw  it,  Sureflint ; — this  is  my  first  visit." 

"  Dat  queer !  How  you  own  land,  when  nebber  see 
him?" 

"  Among  the  pale-faces  we  have  such  laws,  that  property 
passes  from  parent  to  child ;  and  I  inherit  mine,  in  this 
neighbourhood,  from  my  grandfather,  Herman  Mordaunt." 

"  What  dat  mean,  'herit  ?  How  man  haf  land,  when  he 
don't  keep  him  ?" 

"  We  do  keep  it,  if  not  by  actually  remaining  on  the  spot, 
by  means  of  our  laws  and  our  titles.  The  pale-faces  regulate 
all  these  things  on  paper,  Sureflint." 

"  T'ink  dat  good  1  Why  no  let  man  take  land  where  he 
want  him,  when  he  want  him  ?  Plenty  land.  Got  more 
land  dan  got  people.  'Nough  for  ebbery  body." 

**  That  fact  makes  our  laws  just ;  if  there  were  not  land 
enough  for  everybody,  these  restrictions  and  divisions  might 
possibly  seem  to  be,  and  in  fact  be,  unjust.  Now,  any  man 
can  have  a  farm  who  will  pay  a  very  moderate  price  for  it. 
The  State  sells,  and  landlords  sell;  and  those  who  don't 
choose  to  buy  of  one,  can  buy  of  the  other." 

"  Dat  true  'nough ;  but  don't  see  need  of  dat  paper. 
When  he  want  to  stay  on  land,  let  him  stay  ;  when  he  want 
to  go  somewhere  let  'noder  man  come.  What  good  pay  for 
betterment  ?" 


108  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  So  as  to  have  betterments.  These  are  what  we  call  tf*8 
rights  of  property,  without  which  no  man  would  aim  at  be* 
ing  anything  more  than  clad  and  fed.  Who  would  hunt, 
if  anybody  that  came  along  had  a  right  to  pick  up  and  skin 
his  game  ?" 

"  See  dat,  well  'nough — nebber  dof  no,  nebber.  Don't 
see  why  land  go  like  skin,  when  skin  go  wid  warrior  and 
hunter,  and  land  stay  where  he  be." 

"  That  is  because  the  riches  of  you  red-men  are  confined 
to  movable  property,  and  to  your  wigwams,  so  long  as  you 
choose  to  live  in  them.  Thus  far,  you  respect  the  rights' 
of  property  as  well  as  the  pale-faces ;  bat  you  must  see  a 
great  difference  between  your  people  and  mine !  —  Between 
the  red-man  and  the  white  man  ?" 

"  Be  sure,  differ :  one  strong,  t'oder  weak  —  one  rich, 
t'oder  poor — one  great,  t'oder  little — one  drive  'way,  t'oder 
haf  to  go — one  get  all,  t'oder  keep  nuttin' — one  march  large 
army,  t'oder  go  Injin  file,  fifty  warrior,  p'rhaps — dot  reason, 
t'ing  so." 

"  And  why  can  the  pale-faces  march  in  large  armies,  with 
cannon,  and  horses,  and  bayonets,  and  the  red-man  not  da 
the  same  ?" 

"  'Cause  he  no  got  'em — no  got  warrior— no  got  gun — 
no  got  baggonet — no  got  nuttin." 

"  You  have  given  the  effect  for  the  cause,  Sureflint,  or 
the  consequences  of  the  reason,  for  the  reason  itself.  I 
hope  I  make  you  understand  me.  Listen,  and  I  will  ex 
plain.  You  have  lived  much  with  the  white  men,  Susquesus, 
and  can  believe  what  I  say.  There  are  good,  and  there  are 
bad,  among  all  people.  Colour  makes  no  difference,  in  this 
respect.  Still,  all  people  are  not  alike.  The  white  man  is 
stronger  than  the  red-man,  and  has  taken  away  his  country, 
because  he  knows  most." 

"  He  most,  too.  Count  army,  den  count  war-trail ;  you 
see." 

"  It  is  true,  the  pale-faces  are  the  most  numerous  now ; 
but  once  they  were  not.  Do  not  your  traditions  tell  you 
how  few  the  Yengeese  were,  when  they  first  came  across 
the  salt  lake  ?" 

"  Come  in  big  canbe^ — two,  t'ree  full — no  more." 

"  Why  then  did  two"  or  three  ship's-full  of  white  men  be- 


THE    CHAINBEAREK.  109 

come  so  strong  as  to  drive  back  from  the  sea  all  the  red 
warriors,  and  become  masters  of  the  land  1  Can  you  give 
a  reason  for  that  ?" 

"  'Cause  he  bring  fire-water  wid  him,  and  red-man  big 
fool  to  drink." 

"  Even  that  fire-water,  which  doubtless  has  proved  a 
cruel  gift  to  the  Indians,  is  one  of  the  fruits  of  the  white 
man's  knowledge.  No,  Susquesus ;  the  red-skin  is  as  brave 
as  the  pale-face  ;  as  willing  to  defend  his  rights,  and  as  able* 
bodied ;  but  he  does  not  know  as  much.  He  had  no  gun 
powder  until  the  white  man  gave  it  to  him  —  no  rifle  —  no 
hoe,  no  knife,  no  tomahawk,  but  such  as  he  made  himself 
from  stones.  Now,  all  the  knowledge,  and  all  the  arts  of 
life  that  the  white  man  enjoys  and  turns  to  his  profit,  come 
from  the  rights  of  property.  No  man  would  build  a  wigwam 
to  make  rifles  in,  if  he  thought  he  could  not  keep  it  as  long 
as  he  wished,  sell  it  when  he  pleased,  and  leave  it  to  his  son 
when  he  went  to  the  land  of  spirits.  It  is  by  encouraging 
man's  love  of  himself,  in  this  manner,  that  he  is  got  to  do  so 
much.  Thus  it  is,  too,  that  the  father  gives  to  the  son  what 
he  has  learned,  as  well  as  what  he  has  built  or  bought ;  and 
so,  in  time,  nations  get  to  be  powerful,  as  they  get  to  be  what 
we  call  civilized.  Without  these  rights  of  property,  no  people 
could  be  civilized ;  for  no  people  would  do  their  utmost,  un 
less  each  man  were  permitted  to  be  master  of  what  he  can 
acquire,  subject  to  the  great  and  common  laws  that  are  ne 
cessary  to  regulate  such  matters.  I  hope  you  understand 
my  meaning,  Trackless." 

"  Sartain  —  no  like  Trackless'  moccasin  —  my  young 
friend's  tongue  leave  trail.  But,  you  t'ink  Great  Spirit  say 
who  shall  haf  land  ;  who  no  haf  him  ?" 

"  The  Great  Spirit  has  created  man  as  he  is,  and  the 
earth  as  it  is ;  and  he  has  left  the  one  to  be  master  of  the 
other.  If  it  were  not  his  pleasure  that  man  should  not  do 
as  he  has  done,  it  would  not  be  done.  Different  laws  and 
different  feelings  would  then  bring  about  different  ends. 
When  the  law  places  all  men  on  a  level,  as  to  rights,  it  does 
as  much  as  can  be  expected  of  it.  Now,  this  level  does 
not  consist  in  pulling  everything  to  pieces  periodically,  but 
in  respecting  certain  great  principles  that  are  just  in  them 
selves  :  but  which,  once  started,  must  be  left  to  follow  their 
10 


110  THE    CHAINBEARBR. 

own  course.  When  the  rights  of  property  are  first  establish 
ed,  they  must  be  established  fairly,  on  some  admitted  rule ; 
after  which,  they  are  to  remain  inviolable  —  that  is  to  say, 
sacred." 

"  Understand — no  live  in  clearin'  for  nuttin'.  Mean,  haf 
no  head  widout  haf  farm." 

"  That  is  the  meaning,  substantially,  Sureflint ;  though  I 
might  have  explained  it  a  little  differently.  I  wish  to  say 
pale-faces  would  be  like  the  red-man  withou-t  civilization ; 
and  without  civilization  if  they  had  no  rights  in  their  land. 
No  one  will  work  for  another  as  he  will  work  for  himself. 
We  see  that  every  day,  in  the  simplest  manner,  when  we 
see  that  the  desire  to  get  good  wages  will  not  make  the 
common  labourer  do  as  much  by  the  day  as  he  will  do  by 
the  job." 

"  Dat  true,"  answered  the  Indian,  smiling ;  for  he  seldom 
laughed ;  and  repeating  a  common  saying  of  the  country— 
"  By — de — day — by -de — day — By  de  .job,,  job,  job !  Dat 
pale-face  religion,  young  chief." 

"  I  don't  know  that  our  religion  has  much  to  do  with  it ; 
but  I  will  own  it  is  our  practice.  I  fancy  it  is  the  same  with 
all  races  and  colours.  A  man  must  work  for  himself  to  do 
his  most ;  and  he  cannot  work  for  himself  unless  he  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  his  labour.  Thus  it  is,  that  he  must  have  a 
right  of  property  in  land,  either  bought  or  hired,  in  order  to 
make  him  cause  that  land  to  produce  all  that  nature  intended 
it  should  produce.  On  this  necessity  is  founded  the  rights 
of  property ;  the  gain  being  civilization ;  the  loss  ignorance, 
and  poverty,  and  weakness.  It  is  for  this  reason,  then,  that 
we  buy  and  sell  land,  as  well  as  clothes  and  arms,  and 
beads." 

"  T'ink,  understand.  Great  Spirit,  den,  say  must  have 
farm?" 

"  The  Great  Spirit  has  said  we  must  have  wants  and 
wishes,  that  can  be  met,  or  gratified  only,  by  having  farms. 
To  have  farms  we  must  have  owners ;  and  owners  cannot 
exist  unless  their  rights  in  their  lands  are  protected.  As 
soon  as  these  are  gone,  the  whole  building  would  tumble 
down  about  our  ears,  Susquesus." 

"  Well,  s'pose  him  so.  We  see,  some  time.  Young  chief 
know  where  he  is  ?" 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  Ill 

**  Not  exact  y ;  but  I  suppose  we  are  drawing  near  to  the 
lands  of  Ravensnest." 

"  Well,  queer  'nough,  too !  Own  land,  but  don't  know 
him.  See— marked  tree — dat  sign  your  land  begin." 

"  Thank  you,  Sureflint  —  a  parent  would  not  know  his 
own  child,  when  he  saw  him  for  the  first  time.  If  I  am 
owner  here,  you  will  remember  that  this  is  my  first  visit  to 
the  spot." 

While  conversing,  the  Trackless  had  led  me  from  the 
highway  into  a  foot-path,  which,  as  I  afterwards  discovered, 
made  a  short  cut  across  some  hills,  and  saved  us  near  two 
miles  in  the  distance.  In  consequence  of  this  change  in  our 
course,  Jaap  could  not  have  overtaken  me,  had  he  moved 
faster  than  he  did  ;  but,  owing  to  the  badness  of  the  road, 
our  gait  on  foot  was  somewhat  faster  than  that  of  the  jaded 
beasts  who  dragged  the  wagon.  My  guide  knew  the  way 
perfectly ;  and,  as  we  ascended  a  hill,  he  pointed  out  the 
remains  of  an  old  fire,  near  a  spring,  as  a  spot  where  he 
was  accustomed  to  "  'camp,"  when  he  wished  to  remain 
near,  but  not  in  the  'Nest. 

"  Too  much  rum  in  tavern" — he  said.  "  No  good  stay 
near  rum." 

This  was  extraordinary  forbearance  for  an  Indian ;  but 
Susquesus,  I  had  ever  understood,  was  an  extraordinary 
Indian.  Even  for  an  Onondago,  he  was  temperate  and  selif- 
denying.  The  reason  why  he  lived  away  from  his  tribe 
was  a  secret  from  most  persons ;  though  I  subsequently 
ascertained  it  was  known  to  the  Chainbearer,  as  well  as  my 
father.  Old  Andries  always  affirmed  it  was  creditable  to 
his  friend ;  but  he  would  never  betray  the  secret.  Indeed, 
I  found  that  the  sympathy  which  existed  between  these  two 
men,  each  of  whom  was  so  singular  in  his  way,  was 
cemented  by  some  occurrences  of  their  early  lives,  to  which 
occasional,  but  vague  allusions  were  made,  but  which  nei 
ther  ever  revealed  to  me,  or  to  any  other  person,  so  far  as  I 
could  ascertain. 

Soon  after  passing  the  spring,  Sureflint  Jed  me  out  to  a 
cleared  spot  on  the  eminence,  which  commanded  an  exten 
sive  view  of  most  of  that  part  of  my  possessions  which  was 
under  lease  and  occupied.  Here  we  halted,  seating  our 
selves  on  a  fallen  tree,  for  which  one  could  never  go  amiss 


112  THECHAINBEARER. 

in  that  region,  and  at  that  day ;  and  I  examined  the  view 
with  the  interest  which  ownership  is  apt  to  create  in  us  all. 
The  earth  is  very  beautiful  in  itself;  but  it  is  most  beautiful 
in  the  eyes  of  those  who  have  the  largest  stake  in  it,  I  fear. 
Although  the  property  of  Ravensnest  had  been  settled 
fully  thirty  years  when  I  first  saw  it,  none  of  those  signs 
of  rapid  and  energetic  improvement  were  visible  that  we 
have  witnessed  in  the  efforts  of  similar  undertakings  since 
the  revolution.  Previously  to  that  great  event,  the  country 
filled  up  very  slowly,  and  each  colony  seemed  to  regard 
itself,  in  some  measure,  as  a  distinct  country.  Thus  it  was 
that  we  in  New  York  obtained  very  few  immigrants  from 
New  England,  that  great  hive  which  has  so  often  swarmed 
since,  and  the  bees  of  which  have  carried  their  industry  and 
ingenuity  over  so  much  of  the  republic  in  our  own  time. 
We  of  New  York  have  our  prejudices  against  the  Yankees, 
and  have  long  looked  upon  them  with  eyes  of  distrust  and 
disfavour.  They  have  repaid  us  in  kind,  perhaps ;  but  their 
dislikes  have  not  been  strong  enough  to  prevent  them  from 
coming  to  take  possession  of  our  lands.  For  my  own  part, 
while  I  certainly  see  much  in  the  New  England  character 
that  I  do  not  like,  (more  in  their  manners  and  minor  ways, 
perhaps,  than  in  essentials),  I  as  certainly  see  a  great  deal 
to  command  my  respect.  If  the  civilization  that  they  carry 
with  them  is  not  of  a  very  high  order,  as  is  connected  with 
the  tastes,  sentiments,  and  nicer  feelings,  it  is  superior  to 
that  of  any  other  country  I  have  visited,  in  its  common- 
sense  provisions,  and  in  its  care  over  the  intellectual  being, 
considered  in  reference  to  the  foundations  of  learning.  More 
persons  are  dragged  from  out  the  mire  of  profound  ignorance 
under  their  system,  than  under  that  of  any  other  people ; 
and  a  greater  number  of  candidates  are  brought  forward  for 
intellectual  advancement.  That  so  few  of  these  candidates 
rise  very  high  on  the  scale  of  knowledge,  is  in  part  owing 
to  the  circumstance  that  their  lives  are  so  purely  practical ; 
and,  possibly,  in  part  to  the  fact  that  while  so  much  atten 
tion  has  been  paid  to  the  foundations  of  the  social  edifice, 
that  little  art  or  care  has  as  yet  been  expended  on  the  super 
structure.  Nevertheless,  the  millions  of  Yankees  that  are 
spreading  themselves  over  the  land,  are  producing,  and  have 
already  produced,  a  most  salutary  influence  on  its  practical 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  113 

knowledge,  on  its  enterprise,  on  its  improvements,  and  con 
sequently  on  its  happiness.  If  they  have  not  done  much  for 
its  tastes,  its  manners,  and  its  higher  principles,  it  is  because 
no  portion  of  the  earth  is  perfect.  I  am  fully  aware  that  this 
is  conceding  more  than  my  own  father  would  have  conceded 
in  their  favour,  and  twice  as  much  as  could  have  been  ex 
tracted  from  either  of  my  grandfathers.  But,  prejudice  is 
wearing  away,  and  the  Dutchman  and  the  Yankee,  in  par 
ticular,  find  it  possible  to  live  in  proximity  and  charity.  It 
is  possible  that  my  son  may  be  willing  to  concede  even  more. 
Our  immigrant  friends  should  remember  one  thing,  however,, 
and  it  would  render  them  much  more  agreeable  as  compa 
nions  and  neighbours,  which  is  this :  —  He  who  migrates  is 
oound  to  respect  the  habits  and  opinions  of  those  whom  he 
joins  ;  it  not  being  sufficient  for  the  perfection  of  everything 
under  the  canopy  of  heaven,  that  it  should  come  from  our 
own  little  corner  of  the  earth.  Even  the  pumpkin-pies  of 
the  Middle  States  are  vastly  better  than  those  usually  found 
in  New  England.  To  return  to  Ravensnest. 

The  thirty  years  of  the  settlement  of  my  patent,  then,  had 
not  done  much  for  it,  in  the  way  of  works  of  art.  Time,  it 
is  true,  had  effected  something,  and  it  was  something  in  a 
manner  that  was  a  little  peculiar,  and  which  might  be  oftener 
discovered  in  the  country  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing, 
than  at  the  present  day.  The  timber  of  the  'Nest,  with  the 
exception  of  some  mountain-land,  was  principally  what,  in 
American  parlance,  is  termed  ««  hard  wood."  In  other  words, 
the  trees  were  not  perennial,  but  deciduous ;  and  the  merest 
tyro  in  the  woods  knows  that  the  roots  of  the  last  decay  in 
a  fourth  of  the  time  that  the  roots  of  the  first  endure,  after 
the  trunk  is  severed.  As  a  consequence,  the  stumps  had 
nearly  all  disappeared  from  the  fields ;  a  fact  that,  of  itself, 
gave  to  the  place  the  appearance  of  an  old  country,  accord 
ing  to  our  American  notions.  It  is  true,  the  virgin  forest 
still  flourished  in  immediate  contact  with  those  fields,  shorn, 
tilled  and  smoothed  as  they  were,  giviag  a  wild  and  solemn 
setting  to  the  rural  picture  the  latter  presented.  The  con- 
trast  was  sufficiently  bold  and  striking,  but  it  was  not  with 
out  its  soft  and  pleasant  points.  From  the  height  whither 
the  Indian  had  led  me,  I  had  a  foreground  of  open  land, 
dotted  with  cottages  and  barns,  mostly  of  logs,  beautified 
10* 


114  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

by  flourishing  orchards,  and  garnished  with  broad  meadows, 
or  enriched  by  fields,  in  which  the  corn  was  waving  under 
the  currents  of  a  light  summer  air.  Two  or  three  roads 
wound  along  the  settlement,  turning  aside  with  friendly  in 
terest,  to  visit  every  door ;  and  at  the  southern  termination  of 
the  open  country,  there  was  a  hamlet,  built  of  wood  framed, 
which  contained  one  house  that  had  little  taste,  but  a  good 
deal  more  of  pretension  than  any  of  its  neighbours ;  another, 
that  was  an  inn;  a  store,  a  blacksmith's-shop,  a  school- 
house,  and  three  or  four  other  buildings,  besides  barns, 
sheds  and  hog-pens.  Near  the  hamlet,  or  the  "  Nest  Village," 
as  the  place  was  called,  were  the  mills  of  the  region.  These 
were  a  grist-mill,  a  saw-mill,  a  fulling-mill,  and  an  oil-mill. 
All  were  of  moderate  dimensions,  and,  most  probably,  of 
moderate  receipts.  Even  the  best  house  was  not.  painted, 
though  it  had  some  very  ambitious  attempts  at  architecture, 
and  enjoyed  the  benefits  of  no  less  than  four  exterior  doors, 
the  uses  of  one  of  which,  as  it  opened  into  the  air  from  the 
second  story,  it  was  not  very  easy  to  imagine.  Doubtless 
some  great  but  unfinished  project  of  the  owner  lay  at  the 
root  of  this  invention.  But  living  out  of  doors,  as  it  were, 
is  rather  a  characteristic  of  a  portion  of  our  people. 

The  back-ground  of  this  picture,  to  which  a  certain  de 
gree  of  rural  beauty  was  not  wanting,  was  the  "  boundless 
woods."  Woods  stretched  away,  north,  and  south,  and  east, 
far  as  eye  could  reach;  woods  crowned  the  sides  and  sum 
mits  of  all  the  mountains  in  view ;  and  woods  rose  up,  with 
their  leafy  carpeting,  from  out  the  ravines  and  dells.  The 
war  had  prevented  any  very  recent  attempts  at  clearing, 
and  all  the  open  ground  wore  the  same  aspect  of  homely 
cultivation,  while  the  dark  shades  of  an  interminable  forest 
were  spread  around,  forming  a  sort  of  mysterious  void,  that 
lay  between  this  obscure  and  remote  people,  and  the  rest  of 
their  kind.  That  forest,  however,  was  not  entirely  savage. 
There  were  other  settlements  springing  up  in  its  bosom ;  a 
few  roads  wound  their  way  through  its  depths ;  and,  here 
and  there,  the  hunter,  the  squatter,  or  the  red-man,  had 
raised  his  cabin,  and  dwelt  amid  the  sullen  but  not  unplea 
sant  abundance  and  magnificence  of  the  wilderness. 


THE    6HAINBEARER.  115 


CHAPTER  IX. 

»*  O  masters !  if  I  were  disposed  to  stir 
Your  hearts  and  minds  to  mutiny  and  rage, 
I  should  do  Brutus  wrong,  and  Cassius  wrong, 
Who,  you  all  know,  are  honourable  men : 
I  will  not  do  them  wrong ;  I  rather  choose 
To  wrong  the  dead,  to  wrong  myself  and  you, 
Than  I  will  wrong  such  honourable  men." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

"  THIS,  then,  is  Ravensnest !"  I  exclaimed,  after  gazing 
on  the  scene  for  several  minutes  in  silence ;  "  the  estate 
left  me  by  my  grandfather,  and  where  events  once  occurred 
that  are  still  spoken  of  in  my  family  as  some  of  the  most 
momentous  in  its  history ;  eve»ts,  Susquesus,  in  which  you 
were  an  actor." 

The  Indian  made  a  low  interjection,  but  it  is  not  probable 
he  fully  understood  me.  What  was  there  so  remarkable  in 
a  savage  inroad,  a  house  besieged,  men  slain  and  scalps 
taken,  that  he  should  remember  such  things  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century ! 

"  I  do  not  see  the  'Nest,  itself,  Trueflint,"  I  added ;  "  the 
house  in  which  my  grandfather  once  lived." 

The  Onondago  did  not  speak,  but  he  pointed  with  a  finger 
in  a  north-easterly  direction,  making  the  action  distinct  and 
impressive,  as  is  usual  with  his  people.  I  knew  the  place 
by  the  descriptions  I  had  heard,  though  it  was  now  moulder 
ing,  and  had  gone  far  into  decay.  Logs  piled  up  green,  and 
confined  in  such  a  structure,  will  last  some  thirty  or  forty 
years,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  trees  from  which  they 
come,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  have  been  covered. 
At  that  distance,  I  could  not  well  distinguish  how  far,  or 
how  much,  time  had  done  its  work ;  but  I  fancied  I  knew 
enough  of  such  matters  to  understand  I  was  not  to  expect 
in  the  Nest  a  very  comfortable  home.  A  family  dwelt  in 
the  old  place,  and  I  had  seen  some  cheeses  that  had  been 


116  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

made  on  the  very  fine  farm  that  was  attached  to  it.  There 
was  a  large  and  seemingly  a  flourishing  orchard,  and  the 
fields  looked  well;  but,  as  for  the  house,  at  that  distance  it 
appeared  sombre,  dark,  and  was  barely  to  be  distinguished 
by  its  form  and  chimneys,  from  any  other  pile  of  logs. 

I  was  struck  with  the  silent,  dreamy,  sabbath-like  air  of 
the  fields,  far  and  near.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  half- 
naked  children  who  were  visible  around  the  dwellings  to 
which  we  were  the  closest,  not  a  human  being  could  I  dis 
cover.  The  fields  were  tenantless,  so  far  as  men  were  con 
cerned,  though  a  good  many  horned  cattle  were  to  be  seen 
grazing. 

"  My  tenants  are  not  without  stock,  I  find,  Trueflint,"  I 
remarked.  "  There  are  plenty  of  cattle  in  the  pastures." 

"  You  see,  all  young ;"  answered  the  Onondago.  "  War 
do  dat.  Kill  ole  one  for  soldier." 

"  By  the  way,  as  this  settlement  escaped  plunder,  I  should 
think  its  people  may  have  done  something  by  selling  supplies 
to  the  army.  Provisions  of  all  kinds  were  very  high  and 
scarce,  I  remember,  when  we  met  Burgoyne." 

"  Sartain.  Your  people  sell  both  side — good  trade,  den. 
Feed  Yankees — feed  Yengeese." 

"  Well,  I  make  no  doubt  it  was  so ;  for  the  husbandman 
is  not  very  apt  to  hesitate  when  he  can  get  a  good  price ; 
and  if  he  were,  the  conscience  of  the  drover  would  stand 
between  him  and  treason.  But,  where  are  all  the  men  of 
this  country  ?  I  do  not  see  a  single  man,  far  or  near." 

"  No  see  him  1 — Dere,"  answered  the  Indian,  pointing  in 
the  direction  of  the  hamlet.  "  Squire  light  Council-Fire  to 
day,  s'pose,  and  make  speech." 

"  True  enough — there  they  are,  gathered  about  the  school- 
house.  But,  whom  do  you  mean  by  the  'squire,  who  is  so 
fond  of  making  speeches  ?" 

"  Ole  schoolmaster.  Come  from  salt  lake — great  friend 
of  grandfader." 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Newcome,  my  agent  —  true ;  I  might  have 
known  that  he  was  king  of  the  settlement.  Well,  Trueflint, 
let  us  go  on ;  and  when  we  reach  the  tavern,  we  shall  be 
able  to  learn  what  the  Great  Council  is  about.  Say  nothing 
of  my  business ;  for  it  will  be  pleasant  to  look  on  a  little 
before  I  speak  myself." 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  117 

The  Indian  arose,  and  led  the  way  down  the  height,  fol 
lowing  a  foot-path  with  which  he  appeared  to  be  familiar. 
In  a  few  minutes  we  were  in  a  highway,  and  at  no  great 
distance  from  the  hamlet.  I  had  laid  aside  most  of  the  dress 
that  it  was  the  fashion  of  gentlemen  to  wear  in  1784,  and 
put  on  a  hunting-shirt  and  leggings,  as  more  fitting  attire 
for  the  woods ;  consequently  it  would  not  have  been  easy 
for  one  who  was  not  in  the  secret  to  imagine  that  he  who 
arrived  on  foot,  in  such  a  garb,  carrying  his  fowling-piece, 
and  accompanied  by  an  Indian,  was  the  owner  of  the  estate. 
I  had  sent  no  recent  notice  of  my  intended  arrival ;  and,  as 
we  went  along,  I  took  a  fancy  to  get  a  faint  glimpse  of  things 
incognito.  In  order  to  do  this,  it  might  be  necessary  to  say 
a  word  more  to  the  Indian. 

"  Susquesus,"  I  added,  as  we  drew  near  the  school-house, 
which  stood  between  us  and  the  tavern,  "  I  hope  you  have 
understood  me  —  there  is  no  need  of  telling  any  one  who  I 
am.  If  asked,  you  can  answer  I  am  your  friend.  That 
will  be  true,  as  you  will  find  as  long  as  you  live." 

"  Good  —  young  chief  got  eyes  ;  want  to  look  wid  'em, 
himself.  Good  —  Susquesus  know." 

In  another  minute  we  stopped  in  the  crowd,  before  the 
door  of  the  school-house.  The  Indian  was  so  well  known, 
and  so  often  at  the  'Nest,  that  his  appearance  excited  no 
attention.  Some  important  business  appeared  on  the  carpet, 
for  there  was  much  caucusing,  much  private  conversation, 
many  eager  faces,  and  much  putting  together  of  heads. 
While  the  public  mind  was  thus  agitated,  few  were  disposed 
to  take  any  particular  notice  of  me,  though  I  had  not  stood 
long  in  the  outer  edge  of  the  crowd,  which  may  have  contain 
ed  sixty  or  seventy  men,  besides  quite  as  many  well-grown 
lads,  before  I  overheard  an  interrogatory  put,  as  to  who  I 
was,  and  whether  I  had  "  a  right  to  a  vote."  My  curiosity 
was  a  good  deal  excited,  and  I  was  on  the  point  of  asking 
some  explanation,  when  a  man  appeared  in  the  door  of  the 
school-house,  who  laid  the  whole  matter  bare,  in  a  speech. 
This  person  had  a  shrivelled,  care-worn,  but  keen  look,  and 
was  somewhat  better  dressed  than  most  around  him,  though 
not  particularly  elegant,  or  even  very  neat,  in  his  toilette. 
He  was  grey-headed,  of  a  small,  thin  figure,  and  might  have 
been  drawing  hard  upon  sixty.  He  spoke  in  a  deliberate, 


118  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

self-possessed  manner,  as  if  long  accustomed  to  the  sort  of 
business  in  which  he  was  engaged,  but  in  a  very  decided 
Connecticut  accent.  I  say  Connecticut,  in  contradistinction 
to  that  of  New  England  generally  ;  for  while  the  eastern 
States  have  many  common  peculiarities  in  this  way,  a  nice 
and  practised  ear  can  tell  a  Rhode-Islander  from  a  Massa 
chusetts  man,  and  a  Connecticut  man  from  either.  As  the 
orator  opened  his  mouth  to  remove  a  chew  of  tobacco  pre 
viously  to  opening  it  to  speak,  a  murmur  near  me  said  — 
"  hist !  there's  the  squire ;  now,  we  shall  get  suthin'."  This, 
then,  was  Mr.  Jason  Newcome.  my  agent,  and  the  principal 
resident  in  the  settlement. 

"  Fellow-citizens"  —  Mr.  Newcome  commenced  —  "  you 
are  assembled  this  day,  on  a  most  important,  and  I  may 
say,  trying  occasion ;  an  occasion  calculated  to  exercise  all 
our  spirits.  Your  business  is  to  decide  on  the  denomination 
of  the  church-building,  that  you  are  about  to  erect;  and  the 
futur'  welfare  of  your  souls  may,  in  one  sense,  be  said  to  be 
'.interested  in  your  decision.  Your  deliberations  have  already 
been  opened  by  prayer ;  and  now  you  are  about  to  come  to 
a  final  vote.  Differences  of  opinion  have,  and  do  exist 
among  you ;  but  differences  of  opinion  exist  everywhere. 
They  belong  to  liberty,  the  blessings  of  which  are  not  to  be 
enj'yed  without  full  and  free  differences  of  opinion.  Reli 
gious  liberty  demands  differences  of  opinion,  as  a  body 
might  say ;  and  without  them,  there  would  be  no  religious 
liberty.  You  all  know  the  weighty  reason  there  is  for 
coming  to  some  conclusion  speedily.  The  owner  of  the  sile 
will  make  his  appearance  this  summer,  and  his  family  are 
all  of  a  desperate  tendency  towards  an  idolatrous  church, 
which  is  unpleasant  to  most  of  you.  To  prevent  any  conse 
quences,  therefore,  from  his  interference,  we  ought  to  decide 
at  once,  and  not  only  have  the  house  raised,  but  ruffed  in 
afore  he  arrives.  Among  ourselves,  however,  we  have  been 
somewhat  divided,  and  that  is  a  different  matter.  On  the 
former  votes,  it  has  stood  twenty-six  for  congregational  to 
twenty-five  presbytery,  fourteen  methodist,  nine  baptist, 
three  universal,  and  one  episcopal.  Now,  nothings  clearer 
than  that  the  majority  ought  to  rule,  and  that  it  ialthe  duty 
of  the  minority  to  submit.  My  first  decision,  as  moderator, 
was  that  the  congregationals  have  it  by  a  majority  of  one . 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  119 

but  some  being  dissatisfied  with  that  opinion,  I  have  been 
ready  to  hear  reason,  and  to  take  the  view  that  twenty-six 
is  not  a  majority,  but  a  plurality,  as  it  is  called.  As  twenty- 
six,  or  twenty-five,  however,  is  a  majority  over  nine,  and 
over  three,  and  over  one,  taking  their  numbers  singly  or 
together,  your  committee  report  that  the  baptists,  universals 
and  episcopals  ought  to  be  dropped,  and  that  the  next  vote, 
now  to  be  taken,  shall  be  confined  to  the  three  highest 
numbers ;  that  is  to  say,  to  the  congregationals,  the  presby- 
terians  and  the  methodists.  Everybody  has  a  right  to  vote 
for  which  he  pleases,  provided  he  vote  for  one  of  them  three. 
I  suppose  I  am  understood,  and  shall  now  put  the  question, 
unless  some  gentleman  has  any  remarks  to  make." 

"  Mr.  Moderator,"  cried  out  a  burly,  hearty-looking  yeo 
man,  from  the  crowd — "  is  it  in  order  now,  to  speak  ?" 

"  Quite  so,  sir — order,  gentlemen,  order — major  Hosmer 
is  up." 

Up  we  all  were,  if  standing  on  one's  feet  be  up ;  but  tha 
word  was  parliamentary,  and  it  appeared  to  be  understood. 

"  Mr.  Moderator,  I  am  of  the  Baptist  order,  and  I  do  not 
think  the  decision  just ;  sin'  it  compels  us  Baptists  to  vote 
for  a  denomination  we  don't  like,  or  not  to  vote  at  all." 

"  But,  you  will  allow  that  the  majority  ought  to  rule  ?" 
interrupted  the  chair. 

"  Sartain  —  I  agree  to  that ;  for  that  is  part  of  my  reli 
gion,  too,"  returned  the  old  yeoman,  heartily,  and  with  an 
air  of  perfect  good  faith — "  the  majority  ought  to  rule  ;  but 
I  do  not  see  that  a  majority  is  in  favour  of  the  Congrega 
tionals  any  more  than  it  is  of  the  Baptists." 

"  We  will  put  it  to  vote  ag'in,  major,  just  for  your  satis 
faction,"  returned  Mr.  Newcome,  with  an  air  of  great  can 
dour  and  moderation.  "  Gentlemen  ;  those  of  you  who  are 
in  favour  of  the  Baptists  not  being  included  in  the  next  vote 
for  denomination,  will  please  to  hold  up  your  hands." 

As  every  man  present  who  was  not  a  Baptist  voted  "  ay," 
there  were  sixty-nine  hands  shown.  The  "  no's"  were  then 
demanded  in  the  same  way,  and  the  Baptists  got  their  nine 
own  votes,  as  before.  Major  Hosmer  admitted  he  was  satis 
fied,  though  he  looked  as  if  there  might  be  something  wrong 
in  the  procedure,  after  all.  As  the  Baptists  were  the  strongest 
of  the  three  excluded  sects,  the  other  two  made  a  merit  of 


120  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

necessity,  and  said  nothing.  It  was  understood  they  were 
in  a  minority ;  and  a  minority,  as  it  too  often  happens  in 
America,  has  very  few  rights. 

"  It  now  remains,  gentlemen,"  resumed  the  moderator, 
who  was  a  model  of  submission  to  the  public  voice,  "  to  put 
the  vote,  as  between  the  Congregationals,  the  Presbyterians 
and  the  Methodists.  I  shall  first  put  the  Congregationalists. 
Those  who  are  in  favour  of  that  sect,  the  old  Connecticut 
standing  order,  will  please  to  hold  up  their  hands." 

The  tone  of  voice,  the  coaxing  expression  of  the  eye,  and 
the  words  "  old  Connecticut  standing  order,"  let  me  at  once 
into  the  secret  of  the  moderator's  wishes.  At  first,  but  thirty- 
four  hands  appeared ;  but  the  moderator  having  counted 
these,  he  looked  round  the  crowd  until  he  fairly  looked  up 
three  more ;  after  which  he,  honestly  enough,  announced 
the  vote  to  be  thirty-seven  for  the  Congregationalists.  So 
eleven  of  the  thirteen  of  silenced  sects  had,  most  probably, 
voted  with  the  moderator.  The  Presbyterians  came  next, 
and  they  got  their  own  people,  and  two  of  the  Baptists, 
making  twenty-seven  in  all,  on  a  trial  in  their  behalf.  The 
Methodists  got  only  their  own  fourteen. 

"  It  evidently  appearing,  gentlemen,"  said  the  moderator, 
"  that  the  Methodists  gain  no  strength,  and  being  less  than 
half  the  Congregational  vote,  and  much  lower  than  the 
Presbyterian,  I  put  it  to  their  own  well-known  Christian 
humility,  whether  they  ought  not  to  withdraw  !" 

"  Put  it  openly  to  vote,  as  you  did  ag'in  us,"  came  out 
a  Baptist. 

"  Is  that  your  pleasure,  gentlemen  ?  Seeing  that  it  is,  I 
will  now  try  the  vote.  Those  who  are  in  favour  of  the 
Methodists  withdrawing,  will  hold  up  their  hands." 

Sixty-four  hands  were  raised  for,  and  fourteen  against 
the  withdrawal. 

"  It  is  impossible  for  any  religion  to  flourish  ag'in  sich  a 
majority,"  said  the  moderator,  with  great  apparent  candour; 
"  and,  though  I  regret  it,  for  I  sincerely  wish  we  were  strong 
enough  to  build  meetin'-houses  for  every  denomination  in 
the  world ;  but,  as  we  are  not,  we  must  take  things  as  they 
are,  and  so  the  Methodists  must  withdraw.  Gentlemen,  the 
question  is  now  narrowed  down  to  the  Congregationals  and 
the  Presbyterians.  There  is  not  much  difference  between 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  121 

them,  and  it  is  a  thousand  ff.ties  there  should  be  any.  Arc 
you  ready  for  the  question,  gentlemen  ?  No  answer  being 
given,  I  shall  put  the  vote." 

And  the  vote  was  put,  the  result  being  thirty-nine  to 
thirty-nine,  or  a  tie.  I  could  see  that  the  moderator  was 
disappointed,  and  supposed  he  would  claim  a  casting  vote, 
in  addition  to  the  one  he  had  already  given ;  but  I  did  not 
know  my  man.  Mr.  Newcome  avoided  all  appearances  of 
personal  authority  ;  majorities  were  his  cardinal  rule,  and 
to  majorities  alone  he  would  defer.  Whenever  he  chose  to 
govern,  it  was  by  means  of  majorities.  The  exercise  of  a 
power  as  accidentally  bestowed  as  that  of  presiding  officer, 
might  excite  heart-burnings  and  envy ;  but  he  who  went 
with  a  majority  was  certain  of  having  the  weight  of  public 
sympathies  of  his  side.  No  —  no  —  Mr.  Newcombe  never 
had  an  opinion,  as  against  numbers. 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  very  mistaken  notions  of  the  power 
of  majorities  are  beginning  to  take  root  among  us.  It  is 
common  to  hear  it  asserted,  as  a  political  axiom,  that  the 
majority  must  rule !  This  axiom  may  be  innocent  enough, 
when  its  application  is  properly  made,  which  is  simply  to 
say  that  in  the  control  of  those  interests  of  which  the  deci 
sion  is  referred  to  majorities,  majorities  must  rule  ;  but,  God 
forbid  that  majorities  should  ever  rule  in  all  things,  in  this 
republic  or  anywhere  else!  Such  a  state  of  things  would 
soon  become  intolerable,  rendering  the  government  that  ad 
mitted  of  its  existence  the  most  odious  tyranny  that  has 
been  known  in  Christendom  in  modern  times.  The  govern 
ment  of  this  country  is  the  sway  of  certain  great  and  incon 
testable  principles,  that  are  just  in  themselves,  and  which 
are  set  forth  in  the  several  constitutions,  and  under  which 
certain  minor  questions  are  periodically  referred  to  local 
majorities,  as  of  necessity,  out  of  the  frequency  of  which 
appeals  has  arisen  a  mistake  that  is  getting  to  be  danger 
ously  general.  God  forbid,  I  repeat,  that  a  mere  personal 
majority  should  assume  the  power  which  alone  belongs  to 
principles. 

Mr.  Newcome  avoided  a  decision,  as  from  the  chair ;  but 

three  several  times  did  he  take  the  vote,  and  each  time  was 

there  a  tie.     I  could  now  perceive  that  he  was  seriously 

uneasy.     Such  steadiness  denoted  that  men  had  made  up 

1 


122  THE    CHAINBEAKEK. 

their  minds,  and  that  they  would  be  apt  to  adhere  to  them , 
since  one  side  was  apparently  as  strong  as  the  other.  The 
circumstances  Called  for  a  display  of  democratical  tactics ; 
and  Mr.  Newcome  being  very  expert  in  such  matters,  he 
could  have  little  difficulty  in  getting  along  with  the  simple 
people  with  whom  he  had  to  deal. 

"  You  see  how  it  is,  fellow-citizens.  The  public  has  take! 
sides,  and  formed  itself  into  two  parties.  From  this  momen 
the  affair  must  be  treated  as  a  party  question,  and  be  de 
cided  on  party  principles ;  though  the  majority  must  rule. 
Oh  !  here,  neighbour  Willis ;  will  you  just  step  over  to  my 
house,  and  ask  Miss  Newcome  (Anglice,  Mrs.  Newcome ) 
to  hand  you  the  last  volume  of  the  State  Laws  ?     Perhap  j 
they  have  a  word  to  say  in  the  matter."     Here  neighbour 
Willis  did  as  desired,  and  moved  out  of  the  crowd.     As  I 
afterwards  discovered,  he  was  a  warm  presbyterian,  who 
happened,  unfortunately  for  his  sect,  to  stand  so  directly 
before  the  moderator,  as  unavoidably  to  catch  his  eye.      i 
suspected  that  'squire  Newcome  would  now  call  a  vote  on 
the  main  question.     But  I  did  not  know  my  man.     This 
would  have  been  too  palpably  a  trick,  and  he  carefulK 
avoided  committing  the  blunder.   There  was  plenty  of  time 
since  the  moderator  knew  his  wife  could  not  very  readily 
find  a  book  he  had  lent  to  a  magistrate  in  another  settlemen 
twenty  miles  off;  so  that  he  did  not  hesitate  to  have  a  little 
private  conversation  with  one  or  two  of  his  friends. 

"  Not  to  be  losing  time,  Mr.  Moderator,"  said  one  of 
'squire  Newcome's  confidants,  "  I  will  move  you  that  it  is 
the  sense  of  this  meeting,  that  the  government  of  churches 
by  means  of  a  presbytery  is  anti-republican,  opposed  to  our 
glorious  institutions,  and  at  variance  with  the  best  interests 
of  the  human  family.  I  submit  the  question  to  the  public 
without  debate,  being  content  to  know  the  unbiassed  senti 
ments  of  my  fellow-citizens  on  the  subject." 

The  question  was  duly  seconded  and  put,  the  result  being 
thirty-nine  for,  and  thirty-eight  against ;  or  a  majority  of 
owe,  that  Presbyterian  rule  was  anti-republican.  This  was 
a  great  coup  de  maitre.  Having  settled  that  it  was  opposed 
to  the  institutions  to  have  a  presbytery,  a  great  deal  was 
gained  towards  establishing  another  denomination  in  ths 
settlement.  No  religion  can  maintain  itself  against  politic^ 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  123 

sentiment  in  this  country,  politics  coming  home  daily  to 
men's  minds  and  pockets. 

It  is  odd  enough  that,  while  all  sects  agree  in  saying  that 
the  Christian  religion  comes  from  God,  and  that  its  dogmas 
are  to  be  received  as  the  laws  of  Infinite  Wisdom,  men 
should  be  found  sufficiently  illogical,  or  sufficiently  pre 
sumptuous,  to  imagine  that  any,  the  least  of  its  rules,  are  to 
be  impaired  or  strengthened  by  their  dissemblance  or  their 
conformity  to  any  provisions  of  human  institutions.  As  well 
might  it  be  admitted  at  once,  that  Christianity  is  not  of  divine 
origin,  or  the  still  more  extravagant  position  be  assumed, 
that  the  polity  which  God  himself  has  established  can  be 
amended  by  any  of  the  narrow  and  short-sighted  devices 
of  man.  Nevertheless,  it  is  not  to  be  concealed,  that  here, 
as  elsewhere,  churches  are  fashioned  to  suit  the  institutions, 
and  not  the  institutions  to  suit  the  church. 

Having  achieved  so  much  success,  the  moderator's  confi 
dant  pushed  his  advantage. 

"  Mr.  Moderator,"  he  continued,  "  as  this  question  has 
altogether  assumed  a  party  character,  it  is  manifestly  proper 
that  the  party  which  has  the  majority  should  not  be  encum 
bered  in  its  proceedings  by  the  movements  of  the  minority. 
Presbytery  has  been  denounced  by  this  meeting,  and  its 
friends  stand  in  the  light  of  a  defeated  party  at  a  State 
election.  They  can  have  nothin'  to  do  with  the  government. 
I  move,  therefore,  that  those  who  are  opposed  to  presbytery 
go  into  caucus,  in  order  to  appoint  a  committee  to  recom 
mend  to  the  majority  a  denomination  which  will  be  accept 
able  to  the  people  of  Ravensnest.  I  hope  the  motion  will  be 
put  without  debate.  The  subject  is  a  religious  one,  and  it  is 
unwise  to  awaken  strife  on  anything  at  all  connected  with 
religion." 

Alas  !  alas  !  How  much  injury  has  been  done  to  the  cause 
of  Christianity,  how  much  wrong  to  the  laws  of  God,  and 
even  to  good  morals,  by  appeals  of  this  nature,  that  are  in 
tended  to  smother  inquiry,  and  force  down  on  the  timid,  the 
schemes  of  the  designing  and  fraudulent !  Integrity  is  ever 
simple  and  frank ;  while  the  devil  resorts  to  these  plans  of 
plausible  forbearance  and  seeming  concessions,  in  order  to 
veil  his  nefarious  devices. 

The  thing  took,  however    for  popular  bodies,  OBC«  under 


124  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

control,  are  as  easily  managed  as  the  vessel  that  obeys  her 
helm ;  the  strength  of  the  current  always  giving  additional 
power  to  that  material  portion  of  the  ship.  The  motion  was 
accordingly  seconded  and  put.  As  there  was  no  debate, 
which  had  been  made  to  appear  anti-religious,  the  result 
was  precisely  the  same  as  on  the  last  question.  In  other 
words,  there  was  one  majority  for  disfranchising  just  one- 
half  the  meeting,  counting  the  above  man ;  and  this,  too,  on 
the  principle  that  the  majority  ought  to  rule.  After  this,  the 
caucus-people  went  into  the  school-house,  where  it  was  un 
derstood  a  committee  of  twenty-six  was  appointed,  to  recom 
mend  a  denomination  to  the  majority.  This  committee,  so 
respectable  in  its  character,  and  of  so  much  influence  by  its 
numbers,  was  not  slow  in  acting.  As  became  its  moral 
weight,  it  unanimously  reported  that  the  congregational 
polity  was  the  one  most  acceptable  to  the  people  of  Ravens- 
nest.  This  report  was  accepted  by  acclamation,  and  the 
caucus  adjourned  sine  die. 

The  moderator  now  called  the  whole  meeting  to  order, 
again. 

"  Mr.  Moderator,"  said  the  confidant,  "  it  is  time  that  this 
community  should  come  to  some  conclusion,  in  the  pre 
mises.  It  has  been  agitated  long  enough,  in  its  religious 
feelings,  and  further  delay  might  lead  to  unpleasant  and 
lasting  divisions.  I  therefore  move  that  it  is  the  sense  of 
this  meetin'  that  the  people  of  Ravensnest  ardently  wish  to 
see  the  new  meetin'-us,  which  is  about  to  be  raised,  devoted 
and  set  apart  for  the  services  of  the  Congregational  church, 
and  that  a  Congregational  church  be  organized,  and  a  Con 
gregational  pastor  duly  called.  I  trust  this  question,  like 
all  the  others,  will  be  passed  in  perfect  harmony,  and  with 
out  debate,  as  becomes  the  solemn  business  we  are  on." 

The  question  was  taken,  and  the  old  majority  of  one  was 
found  to  be  in  its  favour.  Just  as  Mr.  Moderator  meekly 
announced  the  result,  his  messenger  appeared  in  the  crowd, 
bawling  out,  "  'Squire,  Miss  Newcome  says  she  can't  no 
way  find  the  volum',  which  she  kind  o'  thinks  you  've  lent/' 

"  Btass  me  !  so  I  have  !"  exclaimed  the  surprised  magis 
trate.  •'  It 's  not  in  the  settlement,  I  declare ;  but  it 's  of  no 
importance  now,  as  a  majority  has  fairly  decided.  Fellow- 
citizens,  we  have  been  dealing  with  the  most  important  in' 


THE    CHAINBBARBR.  125 

terest  that  consarns  man ;  his  religious  state,  government, 
and  well-being.  Unanimity  is  very  desirable  on  such  a 
question ;  and,  as  it  is  to  be  presumed  no  one  will  oppose 
the  pop'lar  will,  I  shall  now  put  the  question  to  vote  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  that  unanimity.  Those  who  are  in 
favour  of  the  Congregationals,  or  who  ardently  wish  that 
denomination,  will  hold  up  their  hands." 

About  three-fourths  of  the  hands  went  up,  at  once.  Cries 
of  "  unanimity — unanimity" — followed,  until  one  hand  after 
another  went  up,  and  I  counted  seventy-three.  The  re 
maining  voters  continued  recusant ;  but  as  no  question  was 
taken  on  the  other  side,  the  vote  may  be  said  to  have  been 
a  very  decided  one,  if  not  positively  unanimous.  The  mo 
derator  and  two  or  three  of  his  friends  made  short  speeches, 
commending  the  liberality  of  a  part  of  the  citizens,  and 
congratulating  all,  when  the  meeting  was  adjourned. 

Such  were  the  facts  attending  the  establishment  of  the 
Congregational  church,  in  the  settlement  of  Ravensnest,  on 
purely  republican  principles ;  the  question  having  been 
carried  unanimously  in  favour  of  that  denomination,  although 
fifty-two  votes  out  of  seventy-eight  were  pretty  evidently 
opposed  to  it !  But  republican  principles  were  properly 
maintained,  and  the  matter  was  settled ;  the  people  having 
solemnly  decided  that  they  ardently  wished  for  a  church 
that,  in  truth,  they  did  not  desire  at  all. 

No  complaints  were  made,  on  the  spot  at  least.  The 
crowd  dispersed,  and  as  Mr.  Newcome  walked  through  it, 
with  the  air  of  a  beaten,  rather  than  of  a  successful  man,  I 
came  under  his  observation  for  the  first  time.  He  examined 
me  keenly,  and  I  saw  a  certain  air  of  doubt  and  misgiving 
in  his  manner.  Just  at  that  moment,  however,  and  before 
he  had  time  to  put  a  question,  Jaap  drove  up  in  the  wagon, 
and  the  negro  was  an  old  acquaintance,  having  often  been 
at  the  'Nest,  and  knowing  the  'squire  for  more  than  a  quar 
ter  of  a  century.  This  explained  the  whole  affair,  a  certain 
mixed  resemblance  to  both  father  and  mother  which  I  am 
said  to  bear,  probably  aiding  in  making  the  truth  more  ap 
parent. 

Mr.  Newcome  was  startled  —  that  was  apparent  in  his 
countenance — but  he  was,  nevertheless,  self-possessed.  Ap- 
11  * 


126  THE    CHAINBEAUER. 

preaching,  he  saluted  me,  and  at  once  let  me  know  he  un* 
derstood  who  I  was. 

"  This  is  major  Littlepage,  I  s'pose,"  he  said.  "  I  can 
see  a  good  deal  of  the  gin'ral  in  you,  as  I  know'd  your 
father,  when  a  young  man ;  and  something  of  Herman  Mor- 
daunt,  your  mother's  father.  How  long  is  it  sin'  your  arrival, 
major  Littlepage  1" 

'*  But  a  few  minutes,"  I  answered,  evasively.  "  You  see 
my  wagon  and  servant,  there,  and  we  are  fresh  from  Albany. 
My  arrival  has  been  opportune,  as  all  my  tenants  must  be 
collected  here,  at  this  moment." 

"  Why,  yes  sir,  yes  ;  here  are  pretty  much  the  whull  of 
them.  We  have  had  a  little  meetin'  to-day,  to  decide  on  the 
natur'  of  our  religion,  as  one  might  say.  I  s'pose  the  major 
didn't  get  here  until  matters  were  coming  to  a  head?" 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Mr.  Newcome  —  matters  were 
coming  to  a  head,  as  you  say,  before  I  got  on  the  ground." 

The  'squire  was  a  good  deal  relieved  at  this,  for  his  con 
science  doubtless  pricked  him  a  little  on  the  subject  of  the 
allusion  he  had  made  to  me,  and  my  own  denomination. 
As  for  myself,  I  was  not  sorry  to  have  got  so  early  behind 
the  curtain,  as  to  the  character  of  my  agent.  It  was  pretty 
clear  he  was  playing  his  own  game,  as  to  some  things,  and 
it  might  be  necessary  for  me  to  see  that  this  propensity  did 
not  extend  itself  into  other  concerns.  It  is  true,  my  mind 
was  made  up  to  change  him,  but  there  were  long  and  intri 
cate  accounts  to  settle. 

"  Yes,  sir,  religion  is  an  interest  of  the  greatest  import 
ance  to  man's  welfare,  and  it  has  b'en  (Anglice,  been)  too 
long  neglected  among  us,"  continued  the  late  moderator. 
"  You  see,  yonder,  the  frame  for  a  meetin'-us,  the  first  that 
was  ever  commenced  in  this  settlement,  and  it  is  our  inten 
tion  to  put  it  up  this  a'ternoon.  The  bents  are  all  ready. 
The  pike  poles  are  placed,  and  all  is  waiting  for  the  word 
to  *  heave.'  You  '11  perceive,  'squire,  it  was  judicious  to  go 
to  a  sartain  p'int,  afore  we  concluded  on  the  denomination. 
Up  to  that  p'int  every  man  would  nat'rally  work  as  if  he 
was  workin'  for  his  own  order ;  and  we  've  seen  the  benefit 
of  such  policy,  as  there  you  can  see  the  clap-boards  planed, 
the  sash  made  and  glazed,  stuff  cut  for  pews,  and  everything 
ready  to  put  together.  The  very  nails  and  paints  are  bought 


THE     CHAINBEAKEE.  127 

and  paid  for.     In  a  word,  nothing'  remains  to  be  done,  but  to 
put  together  and  finish  off,  and  preach." 

"  Why  did  you  not  erect  the  edifice,  and  *  finish  off,'  as 
you  call  it^  before  you  came  to  the  test-vote,  that  I  perceive 
you  have  just  taken  2" 

"  That  would  have  been  goin'  a  le-e-e-tle  too  far,  major — 
a  very  le-e-e-tle.  If  you  give  a  man  too  tight  a  hold,  ho 
doesn't  like  to  let  go,  sometimes.  We  talked  the  matter 
over  among  us,  and  concluded  to  put  the  question  before  we 
went  any  further.  All  has  turned  out  happily,  and  we  have 
unanimously  resolved  to  be  Congregational.  Unanimity  in 
religion  is  a  blessed  thing  I" 

"  Do  you  apprehend  no  falling  off  in  zeal,  in  consequence 
of  this  work  ?  no  refusing  to  help  pay  the  carpenters,  and 
painters,  and  priest  ?" 

"  Not  much — a  little,  perhaps ;  but  no  great  matter,  I 
should  judge.  Your  own  liberal  example,  major,  has  had 
its  influence,  and  I  make  no  doubt  will  produce  an  Affect." 

"  My  example,  sir ! — I  do  not  understand  you,  Mr.  New- 
come,  never  having  heard  of  the  church,  untill  I  heard  your 
own  allusions  to  it,  as  chairman  of  this  very  meeting." 

'Squire  Newcome  hemmed,  cleared  his  throat,  took  an 
extra-sized  chew  of  tobacco,  and  then  felt  himself  equal  to 
attempting  an  answer. 

"  I  call  it  your  example,  sir ;  though  the  authority  for 
what  I  have  done  came  from  your  honoured  father,  general 
Littlepage,  as  long  ago  as  before  the  revolution.  War-time, 
you  know,  major,  is  no  time  for  buildin'  meetin'-uses ;  so  we 
concluded  to  defer  the  matter  until  peace.  Peace  we  have, 
and  our  own  eends  are  fast  approaching ;  and  I  thought  if 
the  work  was  ever  to  be  done,  so  that  this  generation  should 
get  the  benefit  of  it,  it  should  be  done  now.  I  was  in  hopes 
we  should  have  had  preachin'  in  the  house  afore  your  ar 
rival,  and  surprised  you  with  the  cheerin'  sight  of  a  wor 
shipping  people  on  your  lands.  Here  is  your  father's  letter, 
from  which  I  read  a  paragraph  to  the  people,  half  an  hour 
sin'." 

"  I  trust  the  people  have  always  been  worshippers,  though 
it  may  not  have  been  in  a  house  built  expressly  for  the  pur 
pose.  With  your  permission,  I  will  read  the  letter." 

This  document  bore  the  date  of  1770,  or  fourteen  years 


128  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

before  the  time  the  building  was  erected,  and  five  years  be 
fore  the  battle  of  Lexington  was  fought.  I  was  a  little  sur 
prised  at  this,  but  read  on.  Among  other  things,  I  found 
that  my  father  had  given  a  general  consent  to  credit  his 
tenants  with  $500  to  aid  in  the  erection  of  a  place  of  wor 
ship  ;  reserving  to  himself,  as  my  guardian,  a  voice  in  the 
choice  of  the  denomination.  I  may  add,  here,  that  on  ex 
amining  the  leases,  I  found  credits  had  been  given,  in  1770, 
for  the  full  amount ;  and  that  the  money,  or  what  passed 
for  money,  the  proceeds  of  work,  produce,  cattle,  butter, 
cheese,  &c.,  had  been  in  Mr.  Newcome's  hands  the  whole 
of  the  intervening  time,  no  doubt  to  his  great  advantage. 
Thus,  by  a  tardy  appropriation  of  my  father's  bounty,  the 
agent  was  pretty  certain  of  being  able  to  finish  the  job  in 
hand,  even  admitting  that  some  of  the  people  should  prove 
restive  under  the  recent  decision. 

"  And  the  money  thus  appropriated  has  gone  to  its  desti 
nation  ?"  I  asked,  on  returning  the  letter. 

"  Every  copper  has  thus  gone,  major,  or  will  soon  go. 
When  the  First  Congregational,  of  Ravensnest,  is  up,  you 
can  contemplate  the  house  with  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  your  own  money  has  largely  aided  in  the  good  work 
of  its  erection.  What  a  delightful  sentiment  that  must 
awaken !  It  must  be  a  great  blessin'  to  landlords,  to  be 
able  to  remember  how  much  of  their  money  goes  for  the 
good  of  their  fellow-mortals." 

"  In  my  case,  it  certainly  should,  as  I  understand  my 
father,  and  indeed  have  myself  seen,  by  the  accounts  ren 
dered  to  me,  that  not  one  dollar  of  rent  has  ever  yet  left  the 
settlement,  to  go  into  the  pocket  of  the  owner  of  the  estate — 
nay,  that  the  direct  outlays  of  my  grandfather  were  consi 
derable,  in  addition  to  the  first  cost  of  the  patent." 

"  I  do  not  deny  it,  major ;  I  do  not  deny  it.  It  is  quite 
probable.  But,  you  will  consider  what  the  spirit  of  Public 
Improvement  demands ;  and  you  gentlemen-proprietors 
nat'rally  look  forward  to  futur'  generations  for  your  reward 
— yes,  sir,  to  futur'  generations.  Then  will  come  the  time 
when  these  leased  lands  will  turn  to  account,  and  you  will 
enj'y  the  fruits  of  your  liberality." 

I  bowed,  but  made  no  answer.  By  this  time,  the  wagon 
h?  d  reached  the  inn,  and  Jaap  was  getting  out  the  trunk 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  129 

and  other  luggage.  A  rumour  had  gone  fqrth  among  the 
people  thai  their  landlord  had  arrived,  and  some  of  the  older 
tenants,  those  who  had  known  "  Herman  Mordaunt,"  as 
they  all  called  my  grandfather,  crowded  around  me  in  a 
frank,  hearty  manner,  in  which  good  feeling  was  blended 
with  respect.  They  desired  to  take  my  hand.  I  shook 
hands  with  all  who  came,  and  can  truly  say  that  I  took  no 
man's  palm  into  my  own  that  day,  without  a  sentiment  that 
the  relation  of  landlord  and  tenant  was  one  that  should  in 
duce  kind  and  confidential  feelings.  The  Ravensnest  pro 
perty  was  by  no  means  necessary  to  my  comfortable  sub 
sistence;  and  I  was  really  well  enough  disposed  to  look 
forward,  if  not  to  "  future  generations,"  at  least  to  a  future 
day,  for  the  advantages  that  were  to  be  reaped  from  it.  I 
asked  the  crowd  in,  ordered  a  tub  of  punch  made,  for,  in 
that  day,  liquor  was  a  necessary  accompaniment  of  every 
welcome,  and  endeavoured  to  make  myself  acceptable  to 
my  new  friends.  A  throng  of  women,  of  whom  I  have  not 
yet  spoken,  were  also  in  attendance ;  and  I  had  to  go  through 
the  ceremony  of  being  introduced  to  many  of  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  Ravensnest.  On  the  whole,  the  meeting  was 
friendly,  and  my  reception  warm. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  Bear,  through  sorrow,  wrong,  and  ruth, 
In  thy  heart  the  dew  of  youth, 
On  thy  lips  the  smile  of  truth." 

LONGFELLOW. 

THE  ceremony  of  the  introductions  was  not  half  through, 
when  there  was  a  noisy  summons  to  the  pike- poles.  This 
called  away  the  crowd  in  a  body ;  a  raising  in  the  country 
being  an  incident  of  too  much  interest  to  be  overlooked.  I 
profited  by  the  occasion  to  issue  a  few  orders  that  related  to 
my  own  comfort,  when  I  went,  myself,  to  the  scene  of  pre 
sent  toil  and  future  Congregationalism. 

Everybody  in  America,  a  few  inveterate  cockney%  ex- 


130 


THE    CHAINBEARER. 


cepted,  have  seen  a  "  raising."  Most  people  have  seen 
hundreds ;  and,  as  for  myself,  I  believe  I  should  be  safe  in 
saying  I  had,  even  at  that  day,  seen  a  thousand.  In  this 
^articular  instance,  there  were  great  felicitations  among  the 
yeomen,  because  the  frame  "  had  come  together  well."  I 
was  congratulated  on  this  score,  the  hearty  old  Rhode 
Islander,  my  brother  major,  assuring  me  that  "  he  couldn't 
get  the  blade  of  his  knife,  and  it 's  no  great  matter  of  a  knife 
either,  into  a  single  j'int.  And,  what  is  more,  'squire" — 
As  the  sturdy  yeoman  was  a  major  himself,  though  only  in 
the  militia,  that  title  would  not  have  been  honourable  enough 
for  his  landlord — "  And,  what  is  more,  'squire,  they  tell  me 
not  a  piece  was  ever  tried,  until  we  put  the  bents  together, 
this  a'ternoon,  ourselves !  Now,  down  country,  I  never 
see'd  sich  a  thing ;  but,  up  here,  the  carpenters  go  by  what 
they  call  the  "  square-rule ;"  and  quick  work  they  make . 
on  Jt !"  This  speech  contained  the  substance  of  one  of  the 
contrivances  by  which  the  "  new  countries"  were  endea 
vouring  to  catch  up  with  the  "  old,"  as  I  learned  on  farther 
inquiries. 

It  may  be  well  to  describe  the  appearance  of  the  place, 
when  I  reached  the  site  of  the  new  "  meetin'-us."  The  great 
body  of  the  "  people"  had  just  taken  their  stands  at  the  first 
bent,  ready  for  a  lift,  while  trusty  men  stood  at  the  feet  of 
the  posts,  armed  with  crow-bars,  broad-axes,  or  such  other 
suitable  implements  as  offered,  in  readiness  to  keep  those 
essential  uprights  in  their  places ;  for,  on  the  steadiness  of 
these  persons,  depended  the  limbs  and  lives  of  those  who 
raised  the  bent.  As  this  structure  was  larger  than  common, 
the  danger  was  increased,  and  the  necessity  of  having  men 
that  could  be  relied  on  was  obviously  so  much  the  greater. 
Of  one  post,  in  particular,  for  some  reason  that  I  do  not 
know,  all  the  trusty  men  seemed  shy ;  each  declaring  that 
he  thought  some  one  else  better  suited  to  take  charge  of  it, 
than  he  was  himself.  The  "  boss" — that  Manhattanese  word 
having  travelled  up  to  Ravensnest — called  out  for  some  one 
to  take  the  delicate  station,  as  nothing  detained  the  work 
but  the  want  of  a  hand  there ;  and  one  looked  at  another, 
to  see  who  would  step  forwa.d,  when  a  sudden  cry  arose 
of  "the  Chainbearer!  —  the  Chainbearer!  —  Here's  your 
man !" 


THE     CII  AIN  BEARER.  131 

Sure  enough,  there  came  old  Andries  Coejerrfans,  hale, 
upright,  vigorous,  and  firm-treading,  though  he  had  actually 
seen  his  three-score  years  and  ten.  My  ancient  comrade 
had  thrown  aside  nearly  every  trace  of  his  late  military 
profession,  though  the  marchings  and  drillings  of  eight 
years  were  not  to  be  worked  out  of  a  man's  air  and  manner 
in  a  twelvemonth.  The  only  sign  of  the  soldier,  other  than 
in  his  bearing,  I  could  trace  about  my  brother  captain,  was 
the  manner  in  which  his  queue  was  clubbed.  Andries  wore 
his  own  hair^  this  his  early  pursuits  in  the  forest  rendered 
necessary  ;  but  it  had  long  been  clubbed  in  a  sort  of  military 
fashion,  and  to  that  fashion  he  now  adhered.  In  other  re 
spects,  he  had  transformed  himself  entirely  into  a  woods 
man.  He  wore  a  hunting-shirt,  like  myself;  leggings, 
moccasins,  and  a  cap  of  skins  that  had  been  deprived  of 
their  furs.  So  far  from  lessening,  in  any  degree,  the  fine 
effect  of  his  green  old  age,  however,  this  attire  served  to 
increase  it.  Andries  Coejemans  stood  six  feet,  at  seventy ; 
was  still  as  erect  as  he  had  been  at  twenty ;  and  so  far  from 
betraying  the  inroads  of  age  on  his  frame,  the  last  appeared 
to  be  indurated  and  "developed  by  what  it  had  borne.  His 
head  was  as  white  as  snow,  while  his  face  had  the  ruddy, 
weather-beaten  colour  of  health  and  exposure.  The  face 
had  always  been  handsome,  having  a  very  unusual  expres 
sion  of  candour  and  benevolence  impressed  on  features  that 
were  bold  and  manly. 

TheChainbearer  could  not  have  seen  me,  until  he  stepped 
upon  the  frame.  Then,  indeed,  there  was  no  mistaking  the 
expression  of  his  countenance,  which  denoted  pleasure  and 
friendly  interest.  Striding  over  the  timber,  with  the  step  of 
a  man  long  accustomed  to  tread  among  dangers  of  all  sorts, 
he  grasped  my  hand,  and  gave  it  such  a  squeeze  as  denoted 
the  good  condition  of  his  own  muscles  and  sinews.  I  saw 
a  tear  twinkling  in  his  eye ;  for  had  I  been  his  own  son,  I 
do  not  think  that  he  could  have  loved  me  more. 

"  Mortaunt,  my  poy,  you  're  heartily  welcome,"  said  my 
old  comrade.  "  You  haf  come  upon  t'ese  people,  I  fancy, 
as  t'e  cat  steals  upon  t'e  mice ;  but  I  had  tilings  of  your 
march,  and  have  peen  a  few  miles  town  t'e  roat  to  meet 
you.  How,  or  where  you  got  past  me,  is  more  t'an  I  know 
for  I  haf  seen  nuttin'  of  you  or  of  your  wagon." 


132  THE    CHAIN  BEARER. 

"  Yet  here  we  both  are,  ray  excellent  old  friend,  and  most 
happy  am  I  to  meet  you  again.  If  you  will  go  with  me  to 
the  tavern,  we  can  talk  more  at  our  ease." 

"  Enough,  enough,  for  t'e  present,  young  comrate.  Pusi- 
ness  is  stanting  still  a  little,  for  t'e  want  of  my  hant ;  step 
off  the  frame,  lat,  and  Jet  us  get  up  t'ese  pents,  when  I  ana 
your  man  for  a  week  or  a  year." 

Exchanging  looks,  and  renewing  the  warm  and  friendly 
pressure  of  the  hand,  we  parted  for  the  moment ;  I  quitting 
the  frame,  while  the  Chainbearer  went  at  once  to  the  foot 
of  the  important  post,  or  to  that  station  no  one  else  would 
assume.  Then  commenced,  without  further  delay,  the  se 
rious  toil  of  raising  a  bent.  This  work  is  seldom  entirely 
free  from  hazard ;  and,  on  this  particular  occasion,  when 
the  force  in  men  was  a  little  drsproportioned  to  the  weight 
of  the  timber,  it  was  doubly  incumbent  on  every  man  to  be 
true  and  steady.  My  attention  was  at  once  attracted  to  the 
business  in  hand ;  and,  for  several  minutes,  I  thought  of 
little  else.  The  females  had  drawn  as  near  the  spot  where 
their  husbands,  brothers  and  lovers  were  exerting  every 
muscle  and  nerve,  as  comported  with  prudence ;  and  a  pro 
found  and  anxious  quiet  pervaded  the  whole  of  a  crowd  that 
was  gay  with  rustic  finery,  if  not  very  remarkable  for  taste 
or  refinement.  Still,  that  cluster  of  females  had  little  in  it 
that  was  coarse  or  even  unfeminine,  if  it  had  not  much  that 
would  be  so  apt  to  meet  the  eye,  in  the  way  of  the  attractive, 
in  a  similar  crowd  of  the  present  day.  The  improvement  in 
the  appearance  and  dress  of  the  wives  and  daughters  of 
husbandmen,  has  been  very  marked  among  us  within  the 
last  five-and-twenty  years.  Fully  one-half  of  those  collected 
on  this  occasion  were  in  short-gowns,  as  they  were  called,, 
a  garb  that  has  almost  entirely  disappeared  ;  and  the  pillions 
that  were  to  be  seen  on  the  bodies  of  nearly  all  the  horses 
that  were  fastened  to  the  adjacent  fences,  showed  the  man 
ner  in  which  they  had  reached  the  ground.  The  calicoes 
of  that  day  were  both  dear  and  homely ;  and  it  required 
money  to  enable  a  woman  to  appear  in  a  dress  that  would 
be  thought  attractive  to  the  least  practised  eye.  Neverthe 
less,  there  were  many  pretty  girls  in  that  row  of  anxious 
faces,  with  black  eyes  and  blue,  light,  black  and  brown 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  133 

hair,  and  of  the  various  forms  and  hues  in  which  female 
beauty  appears  in  the  youthful. 

I  flatter  myself  that  I  was  as  comely  as  the  generality  of 
young  men  of  my  age  and  class,  and  that,  on  ordinary  oc 
casions,  I  could  not  have  shown  myself  before  that  cluster 
of  girls,  without  drawing  to  myself  some  of  their  glances. 
Such  was  not  the  case,  however,  when  I  left  the  frame, 
which  now  attracted  all  eyes.  On  that,  and  on  those 
who  surrounded  it,  every  eye  and  every  anxious  face  was 
turned,  my  own  included.  It  was  a  moment  of  deep  in 
terest  to  all ;  and  most  so  to  those  who  could  only  feel, 
and  not  act. 

At  the  word,  the  men  made  a  simultaneous  effort ;  and 
they  raised  the  upper  part  of  the  bent  from  the  timber  on 
which  it  lay.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  the  labourers,  stout 
and  willing  as  they  were,  had  as  much  as  they  could  lift. 
Boys  stood  ready,  however,  with  short  pieces  of  scantling 
to  place  upright  beneath  the  bent ;  and  the  men  had  time  to 
breathe.  I  felt  a  little  ashamed  of  having  nothing  to  do  at 
such  a  moment ;  but,  fearful  of  doing  harm  instead  of  good, 
I  kept  aloof,  and  remained  a  mere  spectator. 

"  Now,  men,"  said  the  *  boss,'  who  had  taken  his  stand 
where  he  could  overlook  the  work,  "  we  will  make  ready 
for  another  lift.  All  at  once,  makes  light  work  —  are  you 
ready  1 — He-e-a-ve." 

Heave,  or  lift,  the  stout  fellows  did ;  and  with  so  much 
intelligence  and  readiness,  that  the  massive  timber  was  car 
ried  up  as  high  as  their  heads.  There  it  stopped,  supported 
as  before,  by  short  pieces  of  scantling. 

The  pike-poles  next  came  in  play.  This  is  always  the 
heaviest  moment  of  a  lift  of  that  sort,  and  the  men  made 
their  dispositions  accordingly.  Short  poles  were  first  got 
under  the  bent,  by  thrusting  the  unarmed  ends  into  the 
cavity  of  the  foundation  ;  and  a  few  of  the  stoutest  of  the 
men  stood  on  blocks,  prepared  to  apply  their  strength 
directly. 

"  Are  you  ready,  men  ?"  called  out  the  boss.     "  This  is 

our  heaviest  bent,  and  we  come  to  it  fresh.     Look  out  well 

to  the  foot  of  each  post  —  Chainbearer,  I  count  on  you  — 

your  post  is  the  king-post  of  the  whole  frame ;  if  that  goes, 

12 


134  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

all  goes.  Make  ready,  men ;  heave  altogether  —  that 's  a 
lift !  Heave  again,  men  —  he-e-a-ve  —  altogether  now  — 
he-e-a-ve !  —  Up  she  goes ;  he-e-a-ve  —  more  pike-poles  — 
stand  to  the  frame,  boys — get  along  some  studs — he-e-a-ve 
— in  with  your  props — so,  catch  a  little  breath,  men." 

It  was  time  to  take  breath,  of  a  certainty ;  for  the  effort 
had  been  tremendously  severe.  The  bent  had  risen,  how 
ever,  and  now  stood,  supported  as  before  by  props,  at  an 
angle  of  some  fifteen  degrees  with  the  plane  of  the  building, 
which  carried  all  but  the  posts  beyond  the  reach  of  hands. 
The  pike-pole  was  to  do  the  rest ;  and  the  next  ten  degrees 
to  be  overcome  would  probably  cause  the  greatest  expendi 
ture  of  force.  As  yet,  all  had  gone  well,  the  only  draw 
back  being  the  certainty  which  had  been  obtained,  that  the 
strength  present  was  hardly  sufficient  to  get  up  so  heavy  a 
bent.  Nevertheless,  there  was  no  remedy,  every  person  on 
the  ground  who  could  be  of  use,  but  myself,  having  his  sta 
tion.  A  well-looking,  semi-genteel  young  man,  whose  dress 
was  two-thirds  forest  and  one-third  town,  had  come  from 
behind  the  row  of  females,  stepped  upon  the  frame,  and 
taken  his  post  at  a  pike-pole.  The  uninitiated  reader  will 
understand  that  those  who  raise  a  building  necessarily  stand 
directly  under  the  timber  they  are  lifting ;  and,  that  a  down 
fall  would  bring  them  beneath  a  fearful  trap.  Bents  do 
sometimes  come  down  on  the  labourers ;  and  the  result  is 
almost  certain  destruction  to  those  who  are  caught  beneath 
the  timber.  Notwithstanding  the  danger  and  the  difficulty  in 
the  present  case,  good-humour  prevailed,  and  a  few  jokes 
were  let  off  at  the  expense  of  the  Congregationalists  and 
the  late  moderator. 

"  Agree,  'squire,"  called  out  the  hearty  old  Rhode  Islander, 
"  to  let  in  some  of  the  other  denominations  occasionally,  and 
see  how  the  bent  will  go  up.  Presbytery  is  holding  back 
desperately !" 

"  I  hope  no  one  supposes,"  answered  Mr.  Moderator, 
41  that  religious  liberty  doosn't  exist  in  this  settlement. 
Sartainly — sartainly — other  denominations  can  always  use 
this  house,  when  it  isn't  wanted  by  the  right  owners." 

Those  words  "  right  owners"  were  unfortunate ;  the 
stronger  the  right,  the  less  the  losing  party  liking  to  hear 
of  it.  Notwithstanding,  there  was  no  disposition  to  skulk* 


THE    CHAIN BEARER 


135 


m  to  abandon  the  work  ;  and  two  or  three  of  the  dissentients 
took  their  revenge  on  the  spot,  by  hits  at  the  moderator. 
Fearful  that  there  might  be  too  much  talk,  the  boss  now 
renewed  his  call,  for  attention  to  the  work. 

"  Let  us  all  go  together,  men,"  he  added.  "  We  've  got 
to  the  pinch,  and  must  stand  to  the  work  like  well-broke 
cattle.  If  every  man  at  the  frame  will  do  his  best  for  just 
one  minute,  the  hardest  will  be  over.  You  see  that  upright 
stud  there,  with  that  boy,  Tim  Trimmer  at  it ;  just  raise 
the  bent  so  that  Timmy  can  get  the  eend  of  that  stud  under 
it,  and  all  will  be  safe.  Look  to  the  lower  eend  of  the  stud, 
Tim ;  is  it  firm  and  well  stopped  ?" 

Tim  declared  it  was ;  but  two  or  three  of  the  men  went 
and  examined  it,  and  after  making  a  few  alterations,  they 
too  assured  the  boss  it  could  not  get  away.  A  short  speech 
was  then  made,  in  which  everybody  was  exhorted  to  do  his 
best;  and  everybody,  in  particular,  was  reminded  of  the 
necessity  of  standing  to  his  work.  After  that  speech,  the 
men  raised  the  pike-poles,  and  placed  themselves  at  their 
stations.  Silent  expectation  succeeded. 

As  yet,  not  a  sign,  look,  or  word,  had  intimated  either 
wish  or  expectation  that  I  was  to  place  myself  in  the  ranks. 
I  will  confess  to  an  impulse  to  that  effect ;  for  who  can  look 
on,  and  see  their  fellow-creatures  straining  every  muscle, 
and  not  submit  to  human  sympathy  ?  But,  the  recollections 
of  military  rank,  and  private  position,  had  not  only  their 
claims,  but  their  feelings.  I  did  go  a  step  or  two  nearer  to 
the  frame,  but  I  did  not  put  my  foot  on  it. 

"Get  ready,  men"  —  called  the  boss,  "for  a  last  time. 
Altogether,  at  the  word  —  now 's  your  time  —  he-e-a-ve  -~ 
he-e-e-a-ve  —  he-e-e-e-ave !" 

The  poor  fellows  did  heave,  and  it  was  only  too  eviderf 
that  they  were  staggering  under  the  enormous  pressure  of 
the  massive  timber.  I  stepped  on  the  frame,  at  the  very 
centre,  or  at  the  most  dangerous  spot,  and  applied  all  my 
strength  to  a  pike-pole. 

"  Hurrah  !"  shouted  the  boss  —  "  there  comes  the  young 
landlord  !  —  he-e-ave,  every  man  his  best !  —  he-e-e-e-ave !" 

We  did  heave  our  best,  and  we  raised  the  bent  several 
feet  above  its  former  props,  but  not  near  enough  to  reach 
the  new  ones,  by  an  inch  or  two.  Twenty  voices  now  called 


136  THE    CHAIN  BE  ARE  11. 

on  every  man  to  stand  to  his  work ;  for  everybody  felt  the 
importance  of  even  a  boy's  strength.  The  boss  rushed 
forward  like  a  man  to  our  aid ;  and  then  Tim,  fancying  his 
stud  would  stand  without  his  support,  left  it  and  flew  to  a 
pike-pole.  At  this  mistake  the  stud  fell  a  little  on  one  side, 
where  it  could  be  of  no  use.  My  face  was  so  placed  that  I 
saw  this  dangerous  circumstance ;  and  I  felt  that  the  weight 
I  upheld,  individually,  grew  more  like  lead  at  each  instant. 
I  knew  by  this  that  our  force  was  tottering  under  the  down 
ward  pressure  of  the  enormous  bent. 

"  He-e-e-ave,  men  —  for  your  lives,  he-eave !"  exclaimed 
the  boss,  like  one  in  the  agony. 

The  tones  of  his  voice  sounded  to  me  like  those  of  des 
pair.  Had  a  single  boy  deserted  us  then,  and  we  had 
twenty  of  them  on  the  frame,  the  whole  mass  of  timber  must 
have  come  down  upon  us.  Talk  of  charging  into  a  battery ! 
What  is  there  in  that  to  try  men's  nerves,  like  the  situation 
in  which  we  were  placed  1  The  yielding  of  a  muscle,  in  all 
that  straining,  lifting  body,  might  have  ruined  us.  A  most 
fearful,  frightful  twenty  seconds  followed  ;  and  just  as  I  had 
abandoned  hope,  a  young  female  darted  out  of  the  anxious, 
pale-faced  crowd,  that  was  looking  on  in  a  terror  and  agony 
that  may  be  better  conceived  than  described,  and  seizing  the 
stud,  she  placed  it  alongside  of  the  post.  But  an  inch  was 
wanted  to  gain  its  support ;  but  how  to  obtain  that  inch !  I 
now  raised  my  voice,  and  called  on  the  fainting  men  to 
heave.  They  obeyed ;  and  I  saw  that  spirited,  true-eyed, 
firm-handed  girl  place  the  prop  precisely  where  it  was  want 
ed.  All  at  that  end  of  the  bent  felt  the  relief  instantly,  and 
man  after  man  cautiously  withdrew  from  under  the  frame, 
until  none  remained  but  those  who  upheld  the  other  side. 
We  flew  to  the  relief  of  these,  and  soon  had  a  number  of 
props  in  their  places,  when  all  drew  back,  and  looked  on 
the  danger  from  which  they  had  escaped,  breathless  and 
silent.  For  myself,  I  felt  a  deep  sense  of  gratitude  to  God 
for  the  escape. 

This  occurrence  made  a  profound  impression.  Every 
body  was  sensible  of  the  risk  that  had  been  run,  and  of  the 
ruin  that  might  have  befallen  the  settlement.  I  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  rare  creature,  whose  decision,  intelligence 
and  presence  of  mind  had  done  so  much  for  us  all ;  and  to 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  137 

me  she  seemed  to  be  the  loveliest  being  of  her  sex  my  eyes 
had  ever  lighted  on !  Her  form,  in  particular,  was  perfec 
tion  ;  being  the  just  medium  between  feminine  delicacy  and 
rude  health ;  or  just  so  much  of  the  last  as  could  exist  with 
out  a  shade  of  coarseness ;  and  the  little  I  saw  of  a  counte 
nance  that  was  nearly  concealed  by  a  maze  of  curls  that 
might  well  be  termed  golden,  appeared  to  me  to  correspond 
admirably  with  that  form.  Nor  was  there  anything  mascu 
line  or  unseemly  in  the  deed  she  had  performed,  to  subtract 
in  any  manner  from  the  feminine  character  of  her  appear 
ance.  It  was  decided,  useful,  and  in  one  sense  benevolent , 
but  a  boy  might  have  executed  it,  so  far  as  physical  force 
was  concerned.  The  act  required  coolness,  intelligence  and 
courage,  rather  than  any  masculine  power  of  body. 

It  is  possible  that,  aware  as  I  was  of  the  jeopardy  in  which 
we  were  all  placed,  my  imagination  may  have  heightened 
the  effect  of  the  fair  apparition  that  had  come  to  save  us,  as 
it  might  be,  like  a  messenger  from  above.  But,  even  there, 
where  I  stood  panting  from  the  effect  of  exertions  that  I 
have  never  equalled  in  my  own  case  most  certainly,  ex 
hausted,  nearly  breathless,  and  almost  unable  to  stand,  my 
mind's-eye  saw  nothing  but  the  flexible  form,  the  elastic, 
ready  step,  the  golden  tresses,  the  cheek  suffused  by  excite 
ment,  the  charming  lips  compressed  with  resolution,  and 
the  whole  air,  attitude  and  action,  characterized,  as  was 
each  and  all,  by  the  devotion,  readiness  and  loveliness  of 
her  sex.  When  my  pulses  beat  more  regularly,  and  my 
heart  ceased  to  throb,  I  looked  around  in  quest  of  that 
strange  vision,  but  saw  no  one  who  could,  in  the  least,  claim 
to  be  connected  with  it.  The  females  had  huddled  together, 
like  a  covey  that  was  frightened,  and  were  exclaiming,  hold 
ing  up  their  hands,  and  indulging  in  the  signs  of  alarm  that 
are  customary  with  their  sex  and  class.  The  "  vision"  was 
certainly  not  in  that  group,  but  had  vanished,  as  suddenly 
as  it  had  appeared. 

At  this  juncture,  the  Chainbearer  came  forward,  and  took 
the  command.  I  could  see  he  was  agitated — affected  might 
be  a  better  word  —  but  he  was,  nevertheless,  steady  and 
authoritative.  He  was  obeyed,  too,  in  a  manner  I  was  de 
lighted  to  see.  The  orders  of  the  "  boss"  had  produced  no 
such  impressions  as  those  which  old  Andries  now  issued ; 


138  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

and  I  really  felt  an  impulse  to  obey  them  myself,  as  I  would 
have  done  eighteen  months  before,  when  he  stood  on  the 
right  of  our  regiment,  as  its  oldest  captain. 

The  carpenter  yielded  his  command  to  the  Chainbearer 
without  a  murmur.  Even  'squire  Newcome  evidently  felt 
that  Andries  was  one  who,  in  a  certain  way,  could  influence 
the  minds  of  the  settlers  more  than  he  could  do  it  himself. 
In  short,  everybody  listened,  everybody  seemed  pleased,  and 
everybody  obeyed.  Nor  did  my  old  friend  resort  to  any  of 
the  coaxing  that  is  so  common  in  America,  when  men  are 
to  be  controlled  in  the  country.  In  the  towns,  and  wherever 
men  are  to  be  commanded  in  bodies,  authority  is  as  well 
understood  as  it  is  in  any  other  quarter  of  the  world  ;  but, 
in  the  interior,  and  especially  among  the  people  of  New 
England  habits,  very  few  men  carry  sufficient  command 
with  them  to  say  "  John  do  this,"  or  "  John  do  that ;"  but 
it  is  "  Johnny  why  won't  you  do  this  ?"  or  "  Johnny  don't 
you  think  you'd  better  do  that?"  The  Chainbearer  had 
none  of  this  mystified  nonsense  about  him.  He  called  things 
by  their  right  names ;  and  when  he  wanted  a  spade,  he  did 
not  ask  for  a  hoe.  As  a  consequence,  he  was  obeyed,  com 
mand  being  just  as  indispensable  to  men,  on  a  thousand  oc 
casions,  as  any  other  quality. 

Everything  was  soon  ready  again,  with  the  men  stationed 
a  little  differently  from  what  they  had  previously  been.  This 
change  was  the  Chainbearer's,  who  understood  mechanics 
practically;  better,  perhaps,  than  if  he  had  been  a  first-rate 
mathematician.  The  word  was  given  to  heave,  all  of  us 
being  at  the  pike-poles ;  when  up  went  the  bent,  as  if  borne 
upon  by  a  force  that  was  irresistible.  Such  was  the  effect 
of  old  Andries'  habits  of  command,  which  not  only  caused 
every  man  to  lift  with  all  his  might,  but  the  whole  to  lift 
together.  A  bent  that  is  perpendicular  is  easily  secured ; 
and  then  it  was  announced  that  the  heaviest  of  the  work 
was  over.  The  other  bents  were  much  lighter ;  and  one  up, 
there  were  means  of  aiding  in  raising  the  rest,  that  were  at 
first  wanting. 

"  The  Congregationals  has  got  the  best  on't,"  cried  out 
the  old  Rhode  Islander,  laughing,  as  soon  as  the  bent  was 
stay-lathed,  "  by  the  help  of  the  Chainbearer  and  somebody 
else  1  wuni  name  I  Well,  our  turn  will  come,  some  day ; 


THE    CH  AINBEARER.  139 

for  Ravensnest  is  a  place  in  which  the  people  wont  be  satis 
fied  with  one  religion.  A  country  is  badly  on't,  that  has 
but  one  religion  in't;  priests  getting  lazy,  and  professors 
dull !" 

"  You  may  be  sure  of  t'at,"  answered  the  Chainbearer, 
who  was  evidently  making  preparations  to  quit  the  frame. 
"  Ravensnest  will  get  as  many  religions,  in  time,  as  t'ere 
are  discontented  spirits  in  it;  and  t'ey  will  need  many 
raisings,  and  more  priests." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  leave  us,  Chainbearer  1  There 's  more 
posts  to  hold,  and  more  bents  to  lift  1" 

"  The  worst  is  over,  and  you  've  force  enough  wit'out 
me,  for  what  remains  to  be  tone.  I  haf  t'e  lantlort  to 
take  care  of.  Go  to  your  work,  men  ,•  and,  if  you  can,  re- 
memper  you  haf  a  peing  to  worship  in  t'is  house,  t'at  is 
neit'er  Congregational,  nor  Presbyterian,  nor  anything  else 
of  the  nature  of  your  disputes  ajad  self-conceit.  'Squire 
Newcome  wilt  gif  you  a  leat  in  t'e  way  of  Farning,  and 
t'e  carpenter  can  act  boss  well  enough  for  t'e  rest  of  t'e 
tay." 

I  was  surprised  at  the  coolness  with  which  my  old  friend 
delivered  himself  of  sentiments  that  were  not  very  likely  to 
find  favour  in  such  a  company,  and  the  deference  that  he 
received,  while  thus  ungraciously  employed.  But,  I  after 
wards  ascertained  Andries  commanded  respect  by  means 
of  his  known  integrity ;  and  his  opinions  carried  weight 
because  he  was  a  man  who  usually  said  "  come  boys,"  and 
not  one  who  issued  his  orders  in  the  words  "  go  boys." 
This  had  been  his  character  in  the  army,  where,  in  his  own 
little  circle,  he  was  known  as  one  ever  ready  to  lead  in 
person.  Then  Andries  was  a  man  of  sterling  truth ;  and 
such  a  man,  when  he  has  the  moral  courage  to  act  up  to 
his  native  impulses,  mingled  with  discretion  enough  to  keep 
him  within  the  boundaries  of  common  prudence,  insensibly 
acquires  great  influence  over  those  with  whom  he  is  brought 
in  contact.  Men  never  fail  to  respect  such  qualities,  how 
ever  little  they  put  them  in  practice  in  their  own  cases. 

"  Come,  Morty,  my  poy,"  said  the  Chainbearer,  as  soon 
as  we  were  clear  of  the  crowd,  "  I  will  pe  your  guite,  ant 
take  you  to  a  roof  unter  which  you  will  pe  master." 

"  You  surely  do  not  mean  the  'Nest  V1 


140  THE    CHAINBEARHR. 

"T'at,  and  no  ot'er.  T'e  olt  place  looks,  like  us  oft 
soltiers,  a  little  rusty,  and  t'e  worse  for  sarviee ;  put  it  is 
comfortaple,  and  I  haf  had  it  put  in  order  for  you,  poy. 
Your  grandfat'er's  furniture  is  still  t'ere ;  and  Frank  Mai- 
pone,  Dus  and  I,  haf  mate  it  heat-quarters,  since  we  haf 
peen  in  t'is  part  of  t'e  country.  You  know  I  haf  your 
orters  for  t'at." 

"  Certainly,  and  to  use  anything  else  that  is  mine.  But 
I  had  supposed  you  fairly  hutted  in  the  woods  of  Moose- 
ridge  !" 

"  T'at  hast  peen  tone,  too ;  sometimes  we  are  at  one  place, 
and  sometimes  at  anot'er.  My  niggers  are  at  t'e  hut ;  put 
Frank,  and  Dus  and  I  haf  come  ofer  to  welcome  you  to 
t'e  country." 

"  I  have  a  wagoner  here,  and  my  own  black— let  me  step 
to  the  inn,  and  order  them  to  get  ready  for  us." 

"  Mortaunt,  you  and  I  haf  peen  uset  to  our  feet.  The 
soltier  marches,  and  countermarches,  wit'  no  wagon  to  carry 
him ;  he  leafs  t'em  to  t'e  paggage,  and  t'e  paggage-guart." 

"  Come  on,  old  Andries ;  I  will  be  your  comrade,  on  foot 
or  on  horseback.  It  can  only  be  some  three  or  four  miles, 
and  Jaap  can  follow  with  the  trunks  at  his  leisure." 

A  word  spoken  to  the  negro  was  all  that  was  necessary ; 
though  the  meeting  between  him  and  the  Chainbearer  was 
that  of  old  friends.  Jaap  had  gone  through  the  whole  war 
with  the  regiment,  sometimes  acting  as  my  father's  servant, 
sometimes  carrying  a  musket,  sometimes  driving  a  team ; 
and,  at  the  close  of  his  career,  as  my  particular  attendant. 
He  consequently  regarded  himself  as  a  sort  of  soldier,  and 
a  very  good  one  had  he  proved  himself  to  be,  on  a  great 
many  occasions. 

"  One  word  before  we  start,  Chainbearer,"  I  said,  as  old 
Andries  and  Jaap  concluded  their  greetings ;  "  I  fell  in  with 
the  Indian  you  used  to  call  Sureflint,  in  the  woods,  and  I 
wish  to  take  him  with  us." 

"  He  hast  gone  aheat,  to  let  your  visit  pe  known,"  an 
swered  my  friend.  "  I  saw  him  going  up  t'e  roat,  at  a 
quick  trot,  half  an  hour  since.  He  is  at  t'e  'Nest  py  t'is 
time." 

No  more  remained  to  be  said  or  done,  and  we  went  our 
way,  leaving  the  people  busily  engaged  in  getting  up  the 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  141 

remainder  of  the  frame.  I  had  occasion  to  observe  that  my 
arrival  produced  much  less  sensation  in  the  settlement  than 
it  might  hare  done,  had  not  the  "  meeting-house"  been  my 
competitor  in  attracting  attention.  One  was  just  as  much  of 
a  novelty  as  the  other ;  just  as  much  of  a  stranger.  Although 
born  in  a  Christian  land,  and  educated  in  Christian  dogmas, 
very  few  of  those  who  dwelt  on  the  estate  of  Ravensnest, 
and  who  were  under  the  age  of  five-and-twenty,  had  ever 
seen  an  edifice  that  was  constructed  for  the  purposes  of 
Christian  worship  at  all.  Such  structures  were  rare  indeed, 
in  the  year  1784,  and  in  the  interior  of  New  York.  Albany 
had  but  two,  I  believe ;  the  capital  may  have  had  a  dozen ; 
and  most  of  the  larger  villages  possessed  at  least  one ;  but, 
with  the  exception  of  the  old  counties,  and  here  and  there 
one  on  the  Mohawk,  the  new  State  could  not  boast  of  many 
of  "  those  silent  fingers  pointing  to  the  sky,"  rising  among 
its  trees,  so  many  monitors  of  a  future  world,  and  of  the 
great  end  of  life.  As  a  matter  of  course,  all  those  who  had 
never  seen  a  church,  felt  the  liveliest  desire  to  judge  of  the 
form  and  proportions  of  this ;  and  as  the  Chainbearer  and  I 
passed  the  crowd  of  females,  I  heard  several  good-looking 
girls  expressing  their  impatience  to  see  something  of  the 
anticipated  steeple,  while  scarce  a  glance  was  bestowed  on 
myself. 

"  Well,  my  old  friend,  here  we  are  together  again,  march 
ing  on  a  public  highway,"  I  remarked,  "  but  with  no  inten 
tion  of  encamping  in  front  of  an  enemy." 

"  I  hope  not,"  returned  Andries,  drily ;  "  t'ough  all  is 
not  golt  t'at  glitters.  We  have  fought  a  hart  battle,  major 
Littlepage;  I  hope  it  will  turn  out  for  a  goot  end." 

I  was  a  little  surprised  at  this  remark ;  but  Andries  was 
never  very  sanguine  in  his  anticipations  of  good.  Like  a 
true  Dutchman,  he  particularly  distrusted  the  immigration 
from  the  eastern  States,  which  I  had  heard  him  often  say 
could  bring  about  no  happy  results. 

"  All  will  come  round  in  the  end,  Chainbearer,"  I  an 
swered,  "  and  we  shall  get  the  benefits  of  our  toil  and  dan 
gers.  But,  how  do  you  come  on  at  the  Ridge,  and  who  is 
this  surveyor  of  your's  !" 

"  T'ings  do  well  enough  at  t'e  Ritge,  Mortaunt ;  for  fere, 
t'ere  is  not  a  soul  yet  to  make  trouple.  We  have  prought 


142  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

you  a  map  of  ten  t'ousant  acres,  lait  off  in  hundret-acre 
lots,  which  I  will  venture  to  say  haf  peen  as  honestly  ant 
carefully  measuret  as  any  ot'er  ten  t'ousant  acres  in  t'e 
State.  We  pegan  next  to  t'is  property,  ant  you  may  pegin 
to  lease,  on  your  fat'er's  lant,  just  as  soon  as  you  please." 

"  And  the  Frank  Malbone,  you  have  written  about,  did 
the  surveying?" 

"  He  worket  up  my  measurements,  lat,  and  closely  tone 
t'ey  are,  I  '11  answer  for  it.  T'is  Frank  Malpone  is  t'e 
brot'er  of  Dus  —  t'at  is  to  say,  her  half-brot'er ;  peing  no 
nephew  of  mine.  Dus,  you  know,  is  only  a  half-niece  in 
bloot ;  but  she  ist  a  full  da'ter  in  lofe.  As  for  Frank,  he  is 
a  goot  fellow ;  and,  t'ough  t'is  is  his  first  jop  at  surfeying, 
he  may  be  dependet  on  wit'  as  much  confitence  as  any  ot'er 
man  going." 

"  No  matter  if  a  few  mistakes  are  made,  Andries ;  land 
is  not  diamonds  in  this  country ;  there  is  plenty  for  us  all, 
and  a  great  deal  to  spare.  It  would  be  a  different  matter 
if  there  was  a  scarcity ;  but,  as  it  is,  give  good  measure  to 
the  tenant  or  the  purchaser.  A  first  survey  can  only  pro 
duce  a  little  loss  or  gain ;  whereas,  surveys  between  old 
farms  are  full  of  trouble." 

"  Ant  lawsuits"  —  put  in  the  Chainbearer,  nodding  his 
head.  "  To  tell  you  my  mint,  Mortaunt,  I  would  rat'er  take 
a  jop  in  a  Dutch  settlement,  at  half-price,  t'an  run  a  line 
petween  two  Yankees  for  twice  the  money.  Among  the 
Dutch,  the  owners  light  t'eir  pipes,  and  smoke  whilst  you 
are  at  work ;  but  the  Yankees  are  the  whole  time  trying  to 
cut  off  a  little  here,  and  to  gain  a  little  t'ere;  so  t'at  it  is  as 
much  as  a  man's  conscience  is  wort'  to  carry  a  chain  fairly 
petween  'em." 

As  I  knew  his  prejudice  on  this  subject  formed  the  weak 
point  in  the  Chainbearer,  I  gave  the  discourse  a  new  turn, 
by  leading  it  to  political  events,  of  which  I  knew  him  to  be 
fond.  We  walked  on,  conversing  on  various  topics  connect- 
ed  with  this  theme,  for  near  an  hour,  when  I  found  myself 
rather  suddenly  quite  near  to  my  own  particular  house. 
Near  by,  the  building  had  more  of  shape  and  substance 
than  it  had  seemed  to  possess  when  seen  from  the  height  ; 
and  I  found  the  orchards  and  meadows  around  it  free  from 
itumps  and  other  eye-sores,  and  in  good  order.  Still,  the 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  143 

place,  on  its  exterior,  had  a  sort  of  gaol-look,  there  being 
no  windows,  nor  any  other  outlet  than  the  door.  On  reach 
ing  the  latter,  which  was  a  gate,  rather  than  an  ordinary 
entrance,  we  paused  a  moment  to  look  about  us.  While  we 
stood  there,  gazing  at  the  fields,  a  form  glided  through  the 
opening,  and  Sureflint  stood  by  my  side.  He  had  hardly 
got  there,  when  there  arose  the  strains  of  the  same  full,  rich 
female  voice,  singing  Indian  words  to  a  civilized  melody,  as 
I  had  heard  issuing  from  the  thicket  of  pines,  among  the 
second  growth  of  the  forest.  From  that  moment  I  forgot 
my  fields  and  orchards,  forgot  the  Chainbearer  and  Sure- 
flint,  and  could  think  of  nothing  but  of  the  extraordinary 
circumstance  of  a  native  girl's  possessing  such  a  knowledge 
of  our  music.  The  Indian  himself  seemed  entranced ;  never 
moving  until  the  song  or  verses  were  ended.  Old  Andries 
smiled,  waited  until  the  last  strain  was  finished,  pronounced 
the  word  "  Dus"  with  emphasis,  and  beckoned  for  me  to 
follow  him  into  the  building. 


CHAPTER  XL 

"  The  fault  will  be  in  the  music,  cousin,  if  you  be  not  woo'd  in 
good  time  :  if  the  prince  be  too  important,  tell  him  there  is  measure 
for  everything,  and  so  dance  out  the  answer."  Beatrice. 

"  Dus  !"  I  repeated  to  myself — "  This,  then,  is  Dus,  and 
no  Indian  girl ;  the  Chainbearer's  '  Dus ;'  Priscilla  Bayard's 
1  Dus ;'  and  Sureflint's  «  wren !'  " 

Andries  must  have  overheard  me,  in  part ;  for  he  stopped 
just  within  the  court  on  which  the  gate  opened,  and  said — 

"  Yes,  t'at  is  Dus,  my  niece.  The  girl  is  like  a  mocking- 
pird,  and  catches  the  songs  of  all  languages  and  people. 
She  is  goot  at  Dutch,  and  quite  melts  my  heart,  Mortaunt, 
when  she  opens  her  throat  to  sing  one  of  our  melancholy 
Dutch  songs;  and  she  gives  the  English  too,  as  if  she  knowet 
no  ot'er  tongue." 

"  But  that  song  was  Indian  —  the  words,  at  least,  were 
Mohawk  or  Oneida," 


144  THE     CHAIN  BE  A  HER. 

"  Onondago — t'ere  is  little  or  no  tifference.  Yes,  you  're 
right  enough ;  the  worts  are  Indian,  and  they  tell  me  t'e 
music  is  Scotch.  Come  from  where  it  will,  it  goes  atraigh* 
to  the  heart,  poy." 

"  How  came  Dus — how  came  Miss  Ursula — that  is,  your 
niece,  to  understand  an  Indian  dialect  ?" 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  she  is  a  perfect  mocking-bird,  and  that 
she  imitates  all  she  hears  ?  Yes,  Dus  would  make  as  goot 
a  surveyor  as  her  brot'er,  after  a  week's  trial.  You  've 
heart  me  say  how  much  I  livet  among  the  tripes  before  t'e 
war,  and  Dus  was  t'en  wit'  me.  In  that  manner  she  has 
caught  the  language ;  and  what  she  has  once  Parnet  she 
Defer  forgets.  Dus  is  half  wilt  from  living  so  much  in  the 
woots,  and  you  must  make  allowances  for  her ;  put  she  is 
a  capital  gal,  and  t'e  very  prite  of  my  heart !" 

"  Tell  me  one  thing  before  we  enter  the  house ;  —  does 
any  one  else  sing  Indian  about  here  1  —  has  Sureflint  any 
women  with  him  ?" 

"  Not  he! — t'e  creatur'  hast  not'ing  to  do  wit'  squaws. 
As  for  any  one  else's  singing  Intian,  I  can  only  tell  you  I 
never  heart  of  such  a  person." 

"  But,  you  told  me  you  were  down  the  road  to  meet  me 
this  morning — were  you  alone  ?" 

"  Not  at  all — we  all  went ;  Sureflint,  Frank,  Dus  and  I. 
I  t'ought  it  due  to  a  lantlort,  Mortaunt,  to  gif  him  a  hearty 
welcome;  t'ough  Dus  did  mutiny  a  little,  and  sait  t'at 
lantlort  or  no  lantlort,  it  was  not  proper  for  a  young  gal 
to  go  forth  to  meet  a  young  man.  I  might  have  t'ought  so 
too,  if  it  hadn't  peen  yourself,  my  poy ;  but,  with  you,  I 
couldn't  play  stranger,  as  one  woult  wit'  a  straggling  Yan 
kee.  I  wishet  to  welcome  you  wit'  the  whole  family ;  put 
I  '11  not  conceal  Dus's  unwillingness  to  pe  of  t'e  party." 

"  But  Dus  was  of  your  party !  It  is  very  odd  we  did  not 
meet !" 

"  Now,  you  speak  of  it,  I  do  pelief  it  wast  all  owin'  to  a 
scheme  of  t'at  cunnin'  gal !  You  must  know,  Mortaunt,  a'ter 
we  had  got  a  pit  down  t'e  roat,  she  persuatet  us  to  enter  a 
t'icket  of  pines,  in  order  to  eat  a  mout'ful ;  and  I  do  pelief 
the  cunnin'  hussey  just  dit  it  t'at  you  might  slip  past,  and 
she  safe  her  female  dignity !" 

"  And  from  those  pines  Sureflint  came,  just  after  Dus,  as 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  145 

you  call  her,  but  Miss  Ursula  Malbone  as  I  ought  to  style 
her,  had  been  singing  this  very  song?" 

"  Wast  you  near  enough  to  know  all  t'is,  poy,  and  we 
miss  you  !  The  gal  dit  sing  t'at  ferry  song ;  yes,  I  remem- 
per  it ;  and  a  sweet,  goot  song  it  is.  Call  her  Miss  Ursula 
Malbone  1  —  Why  shouldn't  you  call  her  Dus,  as  well  as 
Frank  and  I?" 

"  For  the  simple  reason  that  you  are  her  uncle,  and 
Frank  her  brother,  while  I  am  a  total  stranger." 

"  Poh — poh — Morty  $  t'is  is  peing  partic'lar.  I  am  only 
a  half-uncle,  in  the  first  place ;  and  Frank  is  only  a  half- 
brot'er ;  and  I  dares  to  say  you  wilt  pe  her  whole  frient. 
T'en,  you  are  not  a  stranger  to  any  of  t'e  family,  I  can 
tell  you,  lat ;  for  I  haf  talket  enough  apout  you  to  make  hot' 
t'e  poy  and  t'e  gal  lofe  you  almost  as  much  as  I  do  my 
self." 

Poor,  simple-hearted,  upright  old  Andries  !  What  an 
unpleasant  feeling  did  he  give  me,  by  letting  me  into  the 
secret  that  I  was  about  to  meet  persons  who  had  been  listen 
ing  to  his  partial  accounts  for  the  last  twelve  months.  It  is 
so  difficult  to  equal  expectations  thus  awakened ;  and  I  will 
own  that  I  had  begun  to  be  a  little  sensitive  on  the  subject 
of  this  Dus.  The  song  had  been  ringing  in  my  ears  from 
the  moment  I  first  heard  it ;  and,  now  that  it  became  asso 
ciated  with  Priscilla  Bayard's  Ursula  Malbone,  the  latter 
had  really  become  a  very  formidable  person  to  my  imagina 
tion.  There  was  no  retreating,  however,  had  I  wished  it ; 
and  a  sign  induced  the  Chainbearer  to  proceed.  Face  the 
young  woman  I  must,  and  the  sooner  it  was  done  the 
better. 

The  Nest-house,  as  my  homely  residence  was  termed, 
had  been  a  sort  of  fortress,  or  "  garrison,"  in  its  day,  having 
been  built  around  three  sides  of  a  parallelogram,  with  all  its 
windows  and  doors  opening  on  the  court.  On  the  fourth 
side  were  the  remains  of  pickets,  or  palisades,  but  they  were 
mostly  rotted  away,  being  useless  as  a  fence,  from  the  cir 
cumstance  that  the  buildings  stood  on  the  verge  of  a  low 
cliff  that,  of  itself,  formed  a  complete  barrier  against  the  in 
vasions  of  cattle,  and  no  insignificant  defence  against  those 
of  man. 

The  interior  of  the  Nest-house  was  far  more  inviting  than 


146  THE     CHAINBEAKER. 

its  exterior.  The  windows  gave  the  court  an  appearance 
of  life  and  gaiety,  at  once  converting  that  which  was  other 
wise  a  pile  of  logs,  thrown  together  in  the  form  of  a  build 
ing,  into  a  habitable  and  inhabited  dwelling.  One  side  of 
this  court,  however,  was  much  neater,  and  had  much  more 
the  air  of  comfort  than  the  other;  and  towards  the  first 
Andries  led  the  way.  I  was  aware  that  my  grandfather 
Mordaunt  had  caused  a  few  rooms  in  this  building  to  be 
furnished  for  his  own  particular  purposes,  and  that  no  orders 
had  ever  been  given  to  remove  or  to.  dispose  of  the  articles 
thus  provided.  I  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  on  entering 
the  house,  to  find  myself  in  apartments  which,  while  they 
could  not  be  called  in  any  manner  gaily  or  richly  furnished, 
were  nevertheless  quite  respectably  supplied  with  most  of 
the  articles  that  are  thought  necessary  to  a  certain  manner 
of  living. 

"  We  shall  fint  Dus  in  here,  I  dare  say,"  observed  the 
Chainbearer,  throwing  open  a  door,  and  signing  for  me  to 
precede  him.  "  Go  in,  and  shake  t'e  gal's  hand,  Mortaunt ; 
she  knows  you  well  enough,  name  and  natur',  as  a  poty 
may  say." 

I  did  go  in,  and  found  myself  within  a  few  feet  of  the  fair, 
golden-haired  girl  of  the  raising ;  she  who  had  saved  the 
frame  from  falling  on  us  all,  by  a  decision  of  mind  and 
readiness  of  exertion  that  partook  equally  of  courage  and 
dexterity.  She  was  in  the  same  dress  as  when  first  seen  by 
me,  though  the  difference  in  attitude  and  employment  cer 
tainly  gave  her  air  and  expression  a  very  different  character. 
Ursula  Malbone  was  now  quietly  occupied  in  hemming  one 
of  those  coarse  checked  handkerchiefs  that  the  poverty  of 
her  uncle  compelled  him,  or  at  least  induced  him  to  use, 
and  of  which  I  had  seen  one  in  his  hands  only  a  minute 
before.  On  my  entrance  she  rose,  gravely  but  not  discour 
teously  answering  my  bow  with  a  profound  curtsey.  Nei 
ther  spoke,  though  the  salutes  were  exchanged  as  between 
persons  who  felt  no  necessity  for  an  introduction  in  order  to 
know  each  other. 

"  Well,  now,"  put  in  Andries,  in  his  strongest  Dutch  ac 
cent,  "  t'is  wilt  never  do,  ast  petween  two  such  olt  frients. 
Come  hit'er,  Dus,  gal,  and  gif  your  hant  to  Mortaunt  Little 
page,  who  ist  a  sort  of  son  of  my  own," 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  147 

Dus  obeyed,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  holding  her  soft 
velvet-like  hand  in  mine  for  one  moment.  I  felt  a  gratifi 
cation  I  cannot  describe  in  finding  the  hand  was  so  soft, 
since  the  fact  gave  me  the  assurance  that  necessity  had  not 
yet  reduced  her  to  any  of  the  toil  that  is  unsuited  to  a  gen 
tlewoman.  I  knew  that  Andries  had  slaves,  his  only  posses 
sion,  indeed,  besides  his  compass,  chains  and  sword,  unless 
a  few  arms  and  some  rude  articles  of  the  household  were 
excepted ;  and  these  slaves,  old  and  worn  out  as  they  must 
be  by  this  time,  were  probably  the  means  of  saving  the 
niece  from  the  performance  of  offices  that  were  menial. 

Although  I  got  the  hand  of  Ursula  Malbone,  I  could  not 
catch  her  eye.  She  did  not  avert  her  face,  neither  did  she 
affect  coldness ;  but  she  was  not  at  her  ease.  I  could  readily 
perceive  that  she  would  have  been  better  pleased  had  her 
uncle  permitted  the  salutations  to  be  limited  to  the  bows  and 
curtsies.  As  I  had  never  seen  this  girl  before,  and  could 
not  have  done  anything  to  offend  her,  I  ascribed  the  whole 
to  mauvaise  honte,  and  the  embarrassment  that  was  natural 
enough  to  one  who  found  herself  placed  in  a  situation  so 
different  from  that  in  which  she  had  so  lately  been.  I 
bowed  on  the  hand,  possibly  gave  it  a  gentle  pressure  in 
order  to  reassure  its  owner,  and  we  separated. 

"  Well,  now,  Dus,  haf  you  a  cup  of  tea  for  the  lantlort — 
to  welcome  him  to  his  own  house  wit'  ?"  demanded  Andries, 
perfectly  satisfied  with  the  seemingly  amicable  relations  he 
had  established  between  us.  "  T'e  major  hast  hat  a  long 
march,  for  peaceable  times,  and  woult  pe  glat  to  get  a  little 
refreshment." 

"  You  call  me  major,  Chainbearer,  while  you  refuse  to 
accept  the  same  title  for  yourself." 

"  Ay,  t'ere  ist  reason  enough  for  t'at.  You  may  lif  to  be 
a  general ;  wilt  probably  be  one  before  you  're  t'irty  ;  but  I 
am  an  olt  man,  now,  and  shall  never  wear  any  ot'er  uni 
form  than  this  I  have  on  again.  I  pegan  t'e  worlt  in  this 
corps,  Morty,  and  shall  end  it  in  the  rank  in  which  I  be 
gan." 

"  I  thought  you  had  been  a  surveyor  originally,  and  that 
you  fell  back  on  the  chain  because  you  had  no  taste  for 
figures.  I  think  I  have  heard  as  much  from  yourself." 

"  Yes,  t'at  is  t'e  fact.    Figures  and  I  didn't  agree;  nor 


148  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

do  I  like  'em  any  petter  at  seventy  t'an  I  liket  'em  at  se« 
venteen.  Frank  Malbone,  now,  Dus'  brother,  t'ere,  ist  a  lat 
that  takes  to  'em  nat'rally,  and  he  works  t'rough  a  sum 
ast  your  fat'er  would  carry  a  battalion  t'rough  a  ravine. 
Carrying  chain  I  like ;  it  gives  sufficient  occupation  to  t'e 
mind ;  put  honesty  is  the  great  quality  for  the  chainbearer. 
They  say  figures  can't  lie,  Mortaunt ;  but  t'is  is  not  true 
wit'  chains ;  sometimes  they  do  lie,  desperately." 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Francis  Malbone?  I  should  be  pleased 
to  make  his  acquaintance." 

"  Frank  remainet  pehint  to  help  'em  up  with  their  tim 
ber.  He  is  a  stout  chap,  like  yourself,  and  can  lent  a  hant ; 
while,  poor  fellow !  he  has  no  lantlort-tignity  to  maintain." 

I  heard  a  gentle  sigh  from  Dus,  and  involuntarily  turned 
my  head ;  for  she  was  occupied  directly  behind  my  chair. 
As  if  ashamed -of  the  weakness,  the  spirited  girl  coloured, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  heard  her  voice,  the  two 
instances  of  the  Indian  songs  excepted.  I  say  heard  her 
voice ;  for  it  was  an  event  to  record.  A  pleasant  voice,  in 
either  sex,  is  a  most  pleasant  gift  from  nature.  But  the 
sweet  tones  of  Ursula  Malbone  were  all  that  the  most  fasti 
dious  ear  could  have  desired ;  being  full,  rich,  melodious, 
yet  on  the  precise  key  that  best  satisfies  the  taste,  bringing 
with  it  assurances  of  a  feminine  disposition  and  regulated 
habits.  I  detest  a  shrill,  high-keyed  female  voice,  more  than 
that  of  a  bawling  man,  while  one  feels  a  contempt  for  those 
who  mumble  their  words  in  order  to  appear  to  possess  a 
refinement  that  the  very  act  itself  contradicts.  Plain,  direct, 
but  regulated  utterance,  is  indispensable  to  a  man  or  woman 
of  the  world ;  anything  else  rendering  him  or  her  mean  or 
affected. 

"  I  was  in  hopes,"  said  Dus,  "  that  evil-disposed  frame  was 
up  and  secured,  and  that  I  should  see  Frank  in  a  minute  or 
two.  I  was  surprised  to  see  you  working  so  stoutly  for  the 
Presbyterians,  uncle  Chainbearer !" 

"  I  might  return  t'e  compliment,  and  say  I  wast  surprise! 
to  see  you  doing  the  same  t'ing,  Miss  Dus !  Pesides,  the 
tenomination  is  Congregational,  and  not  Prespyterian ;  and 
one  is  apout  as  much  to  your  taste  as  t'e  ot'er." 

"  The  little  I  did  was  for  you,  and  Frank,  and  —  Mr. 
JLittlepage,  with  all  the  rest  who  stood  under  the  frame." 


THE    CHAINBEAREE.  149 

«  I  am  sure,  Miss  Ursula,"  I  now  put  in,  "  we  all  ought, 
and  I  trust  we  all  do  feel  truly  grateful  for  your  timely  aid. 
Had  that  timber  come  down,  many  of  us  must  have  been 
killed,  and  more  maimed." 

"  It  was  not  a  very  feminine  exploit,"  answered  the  girl, 
smiling,  as  I  thought,  a  little  bitterly.  "  But  one  gets  accus 
tomed  to  being  useful  in  the  woods." 

"  Do  you  dislike  living  in  the  forest,  then  ?"  I  ventured 
to  ask. 

"  Certainly  not.  I  like  living  anywhere  that  keeps  me 
near  uncle  Chainbearer,  and  Frank.  They  are  all  to  me, 
now  my  excellent  protectress  and  adviser  is  no  more ;  and 
their  home  is  my  home,  their  pleasure  my  pleasure,  their 
happiness  mine." 

This  might  have  been  said  in  a  way  to  render  it  suspi 
cious  and  sentimental ;  but  it  was  not.  On  the  contrary,  it 
was  impulsive,  and  came  from  the  heart.  I  saw  by  the 
gratified  look  of  Andries  that  he  understood  his  niece,  and 
was  fully  aware  how  much  he  might  rely  on  the  truthful 
character  of  the  speaker.  As  for  the  girl  herself,  the  mo 
ment  she  had  given  utterance  to  what  she  felt,  she  shrunk 
back,  like  one  abashed  at  having  laid  bare  feelings  that 
ought  to  have  been  kept  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  bosom. 
Unwilling  to  distress  her,  I  turned  the  conversation  in  a 
way  to  leave  her  to  herself. 

"  Mr.  Newcome  seems  a  skilful  manager  of  the  multi 
tude,"  I  remarked.  "  He  contrived  very  dexterously  to  give 
to  the  twenty-six  Congregationalists  he  had  with  him  the 
air  of  being  a  majority  of  the  whole  assembly ;  while,  in 
truth,  they  were  barely  a  third  of  those  present." 

"  Let  Jason  Newcome  alone  for  t'at !"  exclaimed  Andries. 
"  He  unterstants  mankint,  he  says,  and  sartainly  he  hast  a 
way  of  marching  and  countermarching  just  where  he  pleases 
wit1  t'ese  people,  makin'  'em  t'ink  t'e  whole  time  t'ey  are 
doing  just  what  t'ey  want  to  do.  It  ist  an  art !  major — it  ist 
an  art  !M 

"  I  should  think  it  must  be,  and  one  worth  possessing ;  if, 
indeed,  it  can  be  exercised  with  credit." 

^  "  Ay,  t'ere's  the  rub !     Exerciset  it  is ;  but  as  for  t'e  cre 
dit,  fat  I  will  not  answer  for.     It  sometimes  makes  me 
angry,  and  sometimes  it  makes  me  laugh,  when  I  look  on, 
13* 


150  THE     CIIAINBEAKER. 

and  see  t'e  manner  in  which  Jason  makes  t'e  people  rule 
t'emselves,  and  how  he  wheels  'em  apout,  and  faces  'em, 
and  t'rows  'em  into  line,  and  out  of  line,  at  t'eir  own  wort  of 
commant  !  His  Excellency  coult  hartly  do  more  wit'  us, 
a'ter  t'e  Baron*  had  given  us  his  drill." 

"  There  must  be  some  talent  necessary,  in  order  to  pos 
sess  so  much  influence  over  one's  fellow-creatures." 

"  It  is  a  talent  you  woult  be  ashamet  to  exercise,  Mor- 
taunt  Littlepage,  t'ough  you  hat  it  in  cart-loats.  No  man 
can  use  such  a  talent  wit'out  peginning  wit'  lying  and  de- 
ceifing  ;  and  you  must  be  greatly  changet,  major,  if  you 
are  at  the  he't  of  your  class,  in  such  a  school." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see,  Chainbearer,  that  you  have  no  better 
opinion  of  my  agent  ;  I  must  look  into  the  matter  a  little, 
when  this  is  the  case." 

"  You  wilt  fint  him  law-honest  enough  ;  for  he  swears 
py  t'e  law,  and  lifs  py  t'e  law.  No  fear  for  your  tollars, 
poy  ;  t'ey  pe  all  safe,  unless  inteet,  t'ey  haf  all  vanishet  in 
t'e  law." 

As  Andries  was  getting  more  and  more  Dutch,  I  knew  he 
was  growing  more  and  more  warm,  and  I  thought  it  might 
be  well  to  defer  the  necessary  inquiries  to  a  cooler  moment. 
This  peculiarity  I  have  often  observed  in  most  of  those  who 
speak  English  imperfectly,  or  with  the  accent  of  some  other 
tongue.  They  fall  back,  as  respects  language,  to  that  nearest 
to  nature,  at  those  moments  when  natural  feeling  is  asserting 
its  power  over  them,  the  least  equivocally. 

I  now  began  to  question  the  Chainbearer  concerning  the 
condition  in  which  he  found  the  Nest-house  and  farm,  over 
which  I  had  given  him  full  authority,  when  he  came  to 
the  place,  by  a  special  letter  to  the  agent.  The  people  in 
possession  were  of  very  humble  pretensions,  and  had  been 
content  to  occupy  the  kitchen  and  servants'  rooms,  ever 
since  my  grandfather's  death,  as  indeed  they  had  done  long 
before  that  event.  It  was  owing  to  this  moderation,  as  well 
as  to  their  perfect  honesty,  that  I  found  nothing  embezzled, 
and  most  of  the  articles  in  good  condition.  As  for  the  farm, 


*  This  allusion  is  evidently  to  a  German  officer,  wh» 
the  Prussian  drill  into  the  American  army,  Baron  Steuben  —  or  Sluy- 
ben,  as  I  think  he  must  have  been  called  in  Germany  —  Steu&en,  ivs 
he  is  universally  termed  in  this  country.  —  EDITOB. 


TjH  E    CHAINBEARER, 


151 


it  had  flourished,  on  the  "  let  alone"  principle.  The  orchards 
had  grown,  as  a  matter  of  course ;  and  if  the  fields  had  not 
been  improved  by  judicious  culture,  neither  had  they  been 
exhausted  by  covetous  croppings.  In  these  particulars  there 
was  nothing  of  which  to  complain.  Things  might  have  been 
better,  Andries  thought ;  but,  he  also  thought  it  was  exceed 
ingly  fortunate  they  were  no  worse.  While  we  were  con 
versing  on  this  theme,  Dus  moved  about  the  room  silently, 
but  with  collected  activity,  having  arranged  the  tea-table 
with  her  own  hands.  When  invited  to  take  our  seats  at  it — 
everybody  drew  near  to  a  tea-table  in  that  day,  unless  when 
there  was  too  large  a  party  to  be  accommodated  —  I  was 
surprised  to  find  everything  so  perfectly  neat,  and  some 
things  rich.  The  plates,  knives,  &c.,  were  of  good  quality, 
but  the  tray  was  actually  garnished  with  a  set  of  old-fashion 
ed  silver,  such  as  was  made  when  tea  was  first  used,  of 
small  size,  but  very  highly  chased.  The  handles  of  the 
spoons  represented  the  stem  of  the  tea-plant,  and  there  was 
a  crest  on  each  of  them ;  while  a  full  coat  of  arms  was 
engraved  on  the  different  vessels  of  the  service,  which  were 
four  in  all.  I  looked  at  the  crest,  in  a  vague  but  surprised 
expectation  of  finding  my  own.  It  was  entirely  new  to  me. 
Taking  the  cream-jug  in  my  hand,  I  could  recall  no  arms 
resembling  those  that  were  engraved  on  it. 

"  I  was  surprised  to  find  this  plate  here,"  I  observed ; 
"  for,  though  my  grandfather  possessed  a  great  deal  of  it, 
for  one  of  his  means,  I  did  not  think  he  had  enough  to  be 
as  prodigal  of  it  as  leaving  it  here  would  infer.  This  is 
family  plate,  too ;  but  those  arms  are  neither  Mordaunt  nor 
Littlepage.  May  I  ask  to  whom  they  do  belong  ?" 

"  The  Malpones,"  answered  the  Chainbearer.  "  T'e  t'ings 
are  t'e  property  of  Dus." 

"  And  you  may  add,  uncle  Chainbearer,  that  they  are  all 
her  property"— added  the  girl,  quickly. 

"  I  feel  much  honoured  in  being  permitted  to  use  them, 
Miss  Ursula,"  I  remarked;  "for  a  very  pretty  set  they 
make." 

"  Necessity,  and  not  vanity,  has  brought  them  out  to-day. 
I  broke  the  only  tea-pot  of  yours  there  was  in  the  house  this 
morning,  and  was  in  hopes  Frank  would  have  brought  up 
one  from  the  store  to  supply  its  place,  before  it  would  be 


152  THE    CHAINBEARER, 

wanted ;  but  he  does  not  come.  As  for  spoons,  I  can  find 
none  belonging  to  the  house,  and  we  use  these  constantly. 
As  the  tea-pot  was  indispensable,  I  thought  I  might  as  well 
display  all  my  wealth  at  once.  But,  this  is  the  first  time 
the  things  have  been  used  in  many,  many  years  !" 

There  was  a  plaintive  melody  in  Dus's  voice,  spite  of  her 
desire  and  her  effort  to  speak  with  unconcern,  that  I  found 
exceedingly  touching.  While  few  of  us  enter  into  the  exulta 
tion  of  successful  vulgarity,  as  it  rejoices  in  its  too  often- 
random  prosperity,  it  is  in  nature  to  sympathize  with  a 
downward  progress,  and  with  the  sentiments  it  leaves,  when 
it  is  connected  with  the  fates  of  the  innocent,  the  virtuous, 
ind  the  educated.  That  set  of  silver  was  all  that  remained 
to  Ursula  Malbone  of  a  physical  character  and  which 
marked  the  former  condition  of  her  family ;  and  doubtless 
she  cherished  it  with  no  low  feeling  of  morbid  pride,  but  as 
a  melancholy  monument  of  a  condition  to  which  all  her 
opinions,  tastes  and  early  habits  constantly  reminded  her 
she  properly  belonged.  In  this  last  point  of  view,  the  sen 
timent  was  as  respectable,  and  as  much  entitled  to  rever 
ence,  as  in  the  other  case  it  would  have  been  unworthy,  and 
meriting  contempt. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  low  misconception,  as  well  as  a 
good  deal  of  cant,  beginning  to  prevail  among  us,  on  the 
subject  of  the  qualities  that  mark  a  gentleman,  or  a  lady. 
The  day  has  gone  by,  and  I  trust  for  ever,  when  the  mere 
accidents  of  birth  are  to  govern  such  a  claim ;  though  the 
accidents  of  birth  are  very  apt  to  supply  the  qualities  that 
really  form  the  caste.  For  my  own  part,  I  believe  in  the 
exaggerations  of  neither  of  the  two  extremes  that  so  stub 
bornly  maintain  their  theories  on  this  subject;  or,  that  a 
gentleman  may  not  be  formed  exclusively  by  birth  on  the 
one  hand,  and  that  the  severe  morality  of  the  bible  on  the 
other  is  by  no  means  indispensable  to  the  character.  A 
man  may  be  a  very  perfect  gentleman,  though  by  no  means 
a  perfect  man,  or  a  Christian ;  and  he  may  be  a  very  good 
Christian,  and  very  little  of  a  gentleman.  It  is  true,  there 
is  a  connection  in  manners,  as  a  result,  between  the  Chris 
tian  and  the  gentleman ;  but  it  is  in  the  result,  and  not  in 
the  motive.  That  Christianity  has  little  necessary  connec 
tion  with  the  character  of  a  gentleman,  may  be  seen  in  the 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  153 

fact  that  the  dogmas  of  the  first  teach  us  to  turn  another 
cheek  to  him  who  smites ;  while  the  promptings  of  the  gen 
tleman  are — not  to  wipe  out  the  indignity  in  the  blood  of  the 
offender,  but  —  to  show  that  rather  than  submit  to  it,  he  is 
ready  to  risk  his  own  life.* 

But,  I  repeat,  there  is  no  necessary  connection  between 
the  Christian  and  the  gentleman,  though  the  last  who  is  the 
first  attains  the  highest  condition  of  humanity.  Christians, 
under  the  influence  of  their  educations  and  habits,  often  do 
things  that  the  code  of  the  gentleman  rejects ;  while  it  is 
certain  that  gentlemen  constantly  commit  unequivocal  sins. 
The  morality  of  the  gentleman  repudiates  meannesses  and 
low  vices,  rather  than  it  rigidly  respects  the  laws  of  God  ; 
while  the  morality  of  the  Christian  is  unavoidably  raised  or 
depressed  by  the  influence  of  the  received  opinions  of  his 
social  caste.  I  am  not  maintaining  that  "  the  ten  command 
ments  were  not  given  for  the  obedience  of  people  of  quality," 
for  their  obligations  are  universal ;  but,  simply,  that  the 
qualities  of  a  gentleman  are  the  best  qualities  of  man  unaid 
ed  by  God,  while  the  graces  of  the  Christian  come  directly 
from  his  mercy. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  that  in  the  true  character  of  a  gen 
tleman  that  is  very  much  to  be  respected.  In  addition  to  the 
great  indispensables  of  tastes,  manners  and  opinions,  based 
on  intelligence  and  cultivation,  and  all  those  liberal  qualities 
that  mark  his  caste,  he  cannot  and  does  not  stoop  to  mean 
nesses  of  any  sort.  He  is  truthful  out  of  self-respect,  and 
not  in  obedience  to  the  will  of  God ;  free  with  his  money, 
because  liberality  is  an  essential  feature  of  his  habits,  and 
not  in  imitation  of  the  self-sacrifice  of  Christ ;  superior  to 

*  Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage  would  seem  to  have  got  hold  of  the  only 
plausible  palliative  for  a  custom  that  originated  in  those  times  when, 
abuses  could  only  be  corrected  by  the  strong  arm ;  and  which,  in  our 
own  days,"is  degenerating  into  the  merest  system  of  chicanery  and 
trick.  The  duellist  who,  in  his  "  practice,"  gets  to  be  "  certain  death 
to  a  shingle,"  and  then  misses  his  man,  instead  of  illustrating  his 
chivalry,  merely  lets  the  world  into  the  secret  that  his  nerves  are  not 
equal  to  his  drill !  There  was  something  as  respectable  as  anything 
can  be  in  connection  with  a  custom  so  silly,  in  the  conduct  of  the 
Englishman  who  called  out  to  his  adversary,  a  near-sighted  man, 
**  that  if  he  wished  to  shoot  at  him,  he  must  turn  his  pistol  in  another 
direction."  —  EDITOR. 


154  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

scandal  and  the  vices  of  the  busy-body,  inasmuch  as  they 
are  low  and  impair  his  pride  of  character,  rather  than  be 
cause  he  has  been  commanded  not  to  bear  false  witness 
against  his  neighbour.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  confound 
these  two  characters,  one  of  which  is  a  mere  human  em 
bellishment  of  the  ways  of  a  wicked  world,  while  the  other 
draws  near  to  the  great  end  of  human  existence.  The  last 
is  a  character  I  revere  ;  while  I  am  willing  to  confess  that 
I  never  meet  with  the  first  without  feeling  how  vacant  and 
repulsive  society  would  become  without  it ;  unless,  indeed, 
the  vacuum  could  be  filled  by  the  great  substance,  of  which, 
after  all,  the  gentleman  is  but  the  shadow. 

Ursula  Malbone  lost  nothing  in  my  respect  by  betraying 
the  emotion  she  did,  while  thus  speaking  of  this  relic  of  old 
family  plate.  I  was  glad  to  find,  however,  that  she  could 
retain  it ;  for,  though  dressed  in  no  degree  in  a  style  unbe 
coming  her  homely  position  as  her  uncle's  housekeeper, 
there  were  a  neatness  and  taste  in  her  attire  that  are  not 
often  seen  in  remote  parts  of  this  country.  On  this  subject, 
the  reader  will  indulge  my  weaknesses  a  little,  if  I  pause  to 
say  a  word.  Ursula  had  neither  preserved  in  her  dress  the 
style  of  one  of  her  sex  and  condition  in  the  world,  nor  yet 
entirely  adopted  that  common  to  girls  of  the  class  to  which 
she  now  seemingly  belonged.  It  struck  me  that  some  of 
those  former  garments  that  were  the  simplest  in  fashion, 
and  the  most  appropriate  in  material,  had  been  especially 
arranged  for  present  use ;  and  sweetly  becoming  were  they, 
to  one  of  her  style  of  countenance  and  perfection  of  form. 
In  that  day,  as  every  one  knows,  the  different  classes  of 
society  —  and,  kingdom  or  republic,  classes  do,  and  ever 
will  exist  in  this  country,  as  an  incident  of  civilization ;  a 
truth  every  one  can  see  as  respects  those  below,  though  his 
vision  may  be  less  perfect  as  respects  those  above  him  — 
but,  every  one  knows  that  great  distinctions  in  dress  existed, 
as  between  classes,  all  over  the  Christian  world,  at  the  close 
of  the  American  war,  that  are  fast  disappearing,  or  have 
altogether  disappeared.  Now,  Ursula  had  preserved  just 
enough  of  the  peculiar  attire  of  her  own  class,  to  let  one 
understand  that  she,  in  truth,  belonged  to  it,  without  render 
ing  the  distinction  obtrusive.  Indeed,  the  very  character 
of  that  which  she  did  preserve,  sufficiently  told  the  story  of 


THE     CHAIN  BEARER  155 

her  origin,  since  it  was  a  subdued,  rather  than  an  exag 
gerated  imitation  of  that  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed, 
as  would  have  been  the  case  with  a  mere  copyist.  I  can 
only  add,  that  the  effect  was  to  render  her  sufficiently 
charming. 

"  Taste  t'ese  cakes,"  said  old  Andries,  who,  without  the 
slightest  design,  did  love  to  exhibit  the  various  merits  of  his 
niece — "  Dus  mate  t'em,  and  I  '11  engage  Matam  Washing 
ton,  herself,  couldn't  make  pleasanter  !" 

"  If  Mrs.  Washington  was  ever  thus  employed,"  I  an 
swered,  "  she  might  turn  pale  with  envy  here.  Better  cakes 
of  the  sort  I  never  ate." 

"  Of  the  sort  is  well  added,  Mr.  Littlepage,"  the  girl 
quietly  observed ;  "  my  protectress  and  friend  made  me 
rather  skilful  in  this  way,  but  the  ingredients  are  not  to  be 
had  here  as  they  were  in  her  family." 

"  Which,  being  a  boarding-school  for  young  ladies,  was 
doubtless  better  supplied  than  common,  with  the  materials 
and  knowledge  necessary  for  good  cakes." 

Dus  laughed,  and  it  startled  me,  so  full  of  a  wild  but 
subsued  melody  did  that  laugh  seem  to  be. 

"  Young  ladies  have  many  foibles  imputed  to  them,  of 
which  they  are  altogether  innocent,"  was  her  answer. 
"  Cakes  were  almost  forbidden  fruit  in  the  school,  and  we 
were  taught  to  make  them  in  pity  to  the  palates  of  the 
men." 

"  Your  future  huspants,  gal,"  cried  the  Chainbearer,  rising 
to  quit  the  room. 

"  Our  fathers,  brothers  and  uncles"  returned  his  niece, 
laying  an  emphasis  on  the  last  word. 

"  I  believe,  Miss  Ursula,"  I  resumed,  as  soon  as  Andries 
had  left  us  alone,  "  that  I  have  been  let  behind  the  curtain 
as  respects  your  late  school,  having  an  acquaintance,  of  a 
somewhat  particular  nature,  with  one  of  your  old  school 
fellows." 

My  companion  did  not  answer,  but  she  fastened  those 
fascinating  blue  eyes  of  her's  on  me,  in  a  way  that  asked  a 
hundred  questions  in  a  moment.  I  could  not  but  see  that 
they  were  suffused  with  tears ;  allusions  to  her  school  often 
producing  that  effect. 

"  I  mean  Miss  Priscilla  Bayard,  who  would  seem  to  be, 


156  THE     CHAINBEARE2U 

or  to  have  been,  a  very  good  friend  of  your's,"  I  added,  o&» 
serving  that  my  companion  was  not  disposed  to  say  any 
thing. 

"  Pris.  Bayard  I"  Ursula  now  suffered  to  escape  her,  in 
her  surprise  — "  and  she  an  acquaintance  of  a  somewhat 
particular  nature !" 

"  My  language  has  been  incautious ;  not  to  say  that  of  a 
coxcomb.  Certainly,  I  am  not  authorized  to  say  more  than 
that  OUT  families  are  very  intimate,  and  that  there  are  some 
particular  reasons  for  that  intimacy.  I  beg  you  to  read 
only  as  I  have  corrected  the  error." 

"  I  do  not  see  that  the  correction  changes  things  much ; 
and  you  will  let  me  say  I  am  grieved,  sadly  grieved,  to 
learn  so  much." 

This  was  odd !  That  Dus  really  meant  what  she  said, 
was  plain  enough  by  a  face  that  had  actually  lost  nearly  all 
of  its  colour,  and  which  expressed  an  emotion  that  was  most 
extraordinary.  Shall  I  own  what  a  miserably  conceited 
coxcomb  I  was  for  a  single  moment  ?  The  truth  must  be 
said,  and  I  will  confess  it.  The  thought  that  crossed  my 
mind  was  this : — Ursula  Malbone  is  pained  at  the  idea  that 
the  only  man  whom  she  had  seen  for  a  year,  and  who  could, 
by  possibility,  make  any  impression  on  one  of  her  education 
and  tastes,  was  betrothed  to  another !  Under  ordinary  cir 
cumstances,  this  precocious  preference  might  have  caused 
me  to  revolt  at  its  exhibition ;  but  there  was  far  too  much 
of  nature  in  all  of  Dus's  emotions,  acts  and  language,  to  pro 
duce  any  other  impression  on  me  than  that  of  intense  in 
terest.  I  have  always  dated  the  powerful  hold  that,  this  girl 
so  soon  obtained  on  my  heart,  to  the  tumult  of  feeling 
awakened  in  me,  at  that  singular  moment.  Love  at  first 
sight  may  be  ridiculous,  but  it  is  sometimes  true.  That  a 
passion  may  be  aroused  by  a  glance,  or  a  smile,  or  any 
other  of  those  secret  means  of  conveying  sympathy  with 
which  nature  has  supplied  us,  I  fully  believe ;  though  its 
duration  must  depend  on  qualities  of  a  higher  and  more 
permanent  influence.  It  is  the  imagination  that  is  first  ex 
cited  ;  the  heart  coming  in  for  its  share  by  later  and  less 
perceptible  degrees. 

My  delusion,  however,  did  not  last  long.  Whether  Ur 
sula  Malbone  was  conscious  of  the  misconstruction  to  which 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  157 

she  was  liable,  I  cannot  say ;  but  I  rather  think  not,  as  she 
was  much  too  innocent  to  dread  evil ;  or  whether  she  saw 
some  other  necessity  for  explaining  herself  remains  a  secret 
with  me  to  this  hour ;  but  explain  she  did.  How  judiciously 
this  was  done,  and  with  how  much  of  that  female  tact  that 
taught  her  to  conceal  the  secrets  of  her  friend,  will  appear 
to  those  who  are  sufficiently  interested  in  the  subject  to  pur 
sue  it. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

•*  Here  come  the  lovers,  full  of  joy  and  mirth. 

Joy,  gentle  friends !  joy,  and  fresh  days  of  love 
Accompany  your  hearts  I" 

Midsummer -Night's  Dream. 

"  I  OUGHT  not  to  leave  you  in  any  doubts  as  to  my  mean 
ing,  Mr.  Littlepage,"  resumed  Ursula,  after  a  short  pause. 
"  Priscilla  Bayard  is  very  dear  to  me,  and  is  well  worthy 
of  all  your  love  and  admiration — " 

"  Admiration  if  you  please,  and  as  much  as  you  please, 
Miss  Ursula ;  but  there  is  no  such  feeling  as  love,  as  yet 
certainly,  between  Miss  Bayard  and  myself." 

The  countenance  of  Dus  brightened  sensibly.  Truth  her 
self,  she  gave  immediate  credit  to  what  I  said ;  and  I  could 
not  but  see  that  she  was  greatly  relieved  from  some  unac 
countable  apprehension.  Still,  she  smiled  a  little  archly, 
and  perhaps  a  little  sadly,  as  she  continued, — 

"  *  As  yet,  certainly,'  is  very  equivocal  on  your  side,  when 
a  young  woman  like  Priscilla  Bayard  is  concerned.  It  may 
at  any  moment  be  converted  into  '  now,  certainly,'  with  that 
certainty  the  other  way." 

"  I  will  not  deny  it.  Miss  Bayard  is  a  charming  crea 
ture — yet,  I  do  not  know  how  it  is — there  seems  to  be  a  fate 
in  these  things.  The  peculiar  relation  to  which  I  alluded, 
and  alluded  so  awkwardly,  is  nothing  more  than  the  engage 
ment  of  my  youngest  sister  to  her  brother.  There  is  no 
secret  in  that  engagement,  so  I  shall  not  affect  to  conceal 
it." 

14 


158  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

"  And  it  is  just  such  an  engagement  as  might  lead  to  one 
between  yourself  and  Priscilla !"  exclaimed  Dus,  certainly 
not  without  alarm. 

"  It  might,  or  it  might  not,  as  the  parties  happen  to  view 
such  things.  With  certain  temperaments  it  might  prove  an 
inducement ;  while,  with  others,  it  would  not." 

"  My  interest  in  the  subject,"  continued  Dus,  "  proceeds 
altogether  from  the  knowledge  I  have  that  another  has 
sought  Miss  Bayard ;  and  I  will  own  with  my  hearty  good 
wishes  for  his  success.  You  struck  me  as  a  most  formida 
ble  rival ;  nor  do  you  seem  any  the  less  so,  now  I  know  that 
your  families  are  to  be  connected." 

"  Have  no  fears  on  my  account,  for  I  am  as  heart-whole 
as  the  day  I  first  saw  the  lady." 

A  flash  of  intelligence  —  a  most  meaning  flash  it  was  — 
gleamed  on  the  handsome  face  of  my  companion ;  and  it 
was  followed  by  a  mournful,  though  I  still  thought  not  an 
entirely  dissatisfied  smile. 

"  These  are  matters  about  which  one  had  better  not  say 
much,"  Dus  added,  after  a  pause.  "  My  sex  has  its  *  pecu 
liar  rights,'  and  no  woman  should  disregard  them.  You 
have  been  fortunate  in  finding  all  your  tenants  collected  to 
gether,  Mr.  Littlepage,  in  a  way  to  let  you  see  them  at  a 
single  glance." 

"  I  was  fortunate  in  one  sense,  and  a  most  delightful  in 
troduction  I  had  to  the  settlement — such  an  introduction  as 
I  would  travel  another  hundred  miles  to  have  repeated." 

"  Are  you,  then,  so  fond  of  raisings? — or,  do  you  really 
love  excitement  to  such  a  degree  as  to  wish  to  get  under  a 
trap,  like  one  of  the  poor  rabbits  my  uncle  sometimes 
takes  ?" 

"  I  am  not  thinking  of  the  raising,  or  of  the  frame ;  al 
though  your  courage  and  presence  of  mind  might  well  inde 
libly  impress  both  on  my  mind"  —  Dus  looked  down,  and 
the  colour  mounted  to  her  temples  —  "  but,  I  was  thinking 
of  a  certain  song,  an  Indian  song,  sung  to  Scotch  music, 
that  I  heard  a  few  miles  from  the  clearings,  and  which  was 
my  real  introduction  to  the  pleasant  things  one  may  both 
hear  and  see,  in  this  retired  part  of  the  world." 

"  Which  is  not  so  retired  after  all,  that  flattery  cannot 
penetrate  it,  I  find.  It  is  pleasant  to  hear  one's  songs  ex- 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  159 

tolled,  even  though  they  may  be  Indian ;  but,  it  is  not  half 
so  pleasant  as  to  hear  tidings  of  Priscilla  Bayard.  If  you 
wish  truly  to  charm  my  ear,  talk  of  her  /" 

"  The  attachment  seems  mutual,  for  I  can  assure  yo& 
Miss  Bayard  manifested  just  the  same  interest  in  you." 

"  In  me !  Priscilla  then  remembers  a  poor  creature  likfr 
me,  in  her  banishment  from  the  world !  Perhaps  she  re- 
members  me  so  much  the  more,  because  I  am  banished.  I 
hope  she  does  not,  cannot  think  I  regret  my  condition  — 
that,  I  could  hardly  forgive  her." 

"  I  rather  think  she  does  not ;  I  know  she  gives  you 
credit  for  more  than  common  excellencies."  . 

"  It  is  strange  that  Priscilla  Bayard  should  speak  of  me 
to  you !  I  have  been  a  little  unguarded  myself,  Mr.  Little- 
page,  and  have  said  so  much,  that  I  begin  to  feel  the  neces 
sity  of  saying  something  more.  There  is  some  excuse  for 
my  not.  feeling  in  your  presence  as  in  that  of  a  stranger ; 
since  uncle  Chainbearer  has  your  name  in  his  mouth  at 
least  one  hundred  times  each  day.  Twelve  different  times 
in  one  hour  did  he  speak  of  you  yesterday." 

"  Excellent  old  Andries  !  It  is  the  pride  of  my  life  that 
so  honest  a  man  loves  me ;  and  now  for  the  explanation  I 
am  entitled  to  receive  as  his  friend,  by  your  own  acknow 
ledgment." 

Dus  smiled,  a  little  saucily  I  thought — but  saucily  or  not, 
that  smile  made  her  look  extremely  lovely.  She  reflected  a 
moment,  like  one  who  thinks  intensely,  even  bending  her 
head  under  the  painful  mental  effort;  then  she  drew  her 
form  to  its  usual  attitude,  and  spoke. 

"  It  is  always  best  to  be  frank,"  she  said,  "  and  it  can  do 
no  harm,  while  it  may  do  good,  to  be  explicit  with  you. 
You  will  not  forget,  Mr.  Littlepage,  that  I  believe  myself  to 
be  conversing  with  my  uncle's  very  best  friend  ?" 

"  I  am  too  proud  of  the  distinction  to  forget  it,  under  any 
circumstances ;  and  least  of  all  in  your  presence." 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  be  frank.  Priscilla  Bayard  was,  for 
eight  years,  my  associate  and  closest  friend.  Our  affection 
for  each  other  commenced  when  we  were  mere  children, 
and  increased  with  time  and  knowledge.  About  a  year  be 
fore  the  close  of  the  war,  my  brother  Frank,  who  is  now 
here  as  my  uncle's  surveyor,  found  opportunities  to  quit  his 


160  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

regiment,  and  to  come  to  visit  me  quite  frequently — indeed, 
his  company  was  sent  to  Albany,  where  he  could  see  me  as 
often  as  he  desired.  To  see  me,  was  to  see  Priscilla ;  for 
we  were  inseparable;  and  to  see  Priscilla  was,  for  poor 
Frank  at  least,  to  love  her.  He  made  me  his  confidant,  and 
my  alarm  was  nothing  but  natural  concern  lest  he  might 
have  a  rival  as  formidable  as  you." 

A  flood  of  light  was  let  in  upon  me  by  this  brief  explana 
tion,  though  I  could  not  but  wonder  at  the  simplicity,  or 
strength  of  character,  that  induced  so  strange  a  confidence. 
When  I  got  to  know  Dus  better,  the  whole  became  clear 
enough ;  but,  at  the  moment,  I  was  a  little  surprised. 

"  Be  at  ease  on  my  account,  Miss  Malbone " 

"  Why  not  call  me  Dus  at  once  ?  —  You  will  do  it  in  a 
week,  like  every  one  else  here ;  and  it  is  better  to  begin  our 
acquaintance  as  I  am  sure  it  will  end.  Uncle  Chainbearer 
calls  me  Dus ;  Frank  calls  rne  Dus ;  most  of  your  settlers 
call  me  Dus,  to  my  very  face ;  and  even  our  blacks  call  me 
Miss  Dus.  You  cannot  wish  to  be  singular." 

"  I  will  gladly  venture  so  far  as  to  call  you  Ursula ;  but 
Dus  does  not  please  me." 

«  No !  —  I  have  become  so  accustomed  to  be  called  Dus 
by  all  my  friends,  that  it  sounds  distant  to  be  called  by  any 
other  name.  Do  you  not  think  Dus  a  pretty  diminutive?" 

"  I  did  not,  most  certainly ;  though  all  these  things  de 
pend  on  the  associations.  Dus  Malbone  sounded  sweetly 
enough  in  Priscilla  Bayard's  mouth ;  but  I  fear  it  will  not 
be  so  pleasant  in  mine." 

"  Do  as  you  please — but  do  not  call  me  Miss  Ursula,  or 
Miss  Malbone.  It  would  have  displeased  me  once,  not  to 
have  been  so  addressed  by  any  man ;  but  it  has  an  air  of 
mockery,  now  that  I  know  myself  to  be  only  the  companion 
and  housekeeper  of  a  poor  chainbearer." 

"  And  yet,  the  owner  of  that  silver,  the  lady  I  see  seated 
at  this  table,  in  this  room,  is  not  so  very  inappropriately 
addressed  as  Miss  Ursula  !" 

"  You  know  the  history  of  the  silver,  and  the  table  and 
room  are  your  own.  No  —  Mr.  Littlepage,  we  are  poor  — 
very,  very  poor  —  uncle  Chainbearer,  Frank  and  I  —  all 
alike,  have  nothing." 


THE    CHAINBEARER 


161 


This  was  not  said  despairingly,  but  with  a  sincerity  that 
1  found  exceedingly  touching. 

"Frank,  at  least,  should  have  something"  —  I  answered. 
"  You  tell  me  he  was  in  the  army  ?" 

"  He  was  a  captain  at  the  last,  but  what  did  he  receive 
for  that  1  We  do  not  complain  of  the  country,  any  of  us  ; 
neither  my  uncle,  my  brother,  nor  myself;  for  we  know  it 
is  poor,  like  ourselves,  and  that  its  poverty  even  is  like  our 
own,  that  of  persons  reduced.  I  was  long  a  charge  on  my 
friends,  and  there  have  been  debts  to  pay.  Could  I  have 
known  it,  such  a  thing  should  not  have  happened.  Now  I 
can  only  repay  those  who  have  discharged  these  obligations 
by  coming  into  the  wilderness  with  them.  It  is  a  terrible 
thing  for  a  woman  to  be  in  debt." 

"  But,  you  have  remained  in  this  house ;  you  surely  have 
not  been  in  the  hut,  at  Mooseridge !" 

"  I  have  gone  wherever  uncle  Chainbearer  has  gone,  and 
shall  go  with  him,  so  long  as  we  both  live.  Nothing  shall 
ever  separate  us  again.  His  years  demand  this,  and  grati 
tude  is  added  to  my  love.  Frank  might  possibly  do  better 
than  work  for  the  little  he  receives ;  but  he  will  not  quit  us. 
The  poor  love  each  other  intensely !" 

"  But  I  have  desired  your  uncle  to  use  this  house,  and 
for  your  sake  I  should  think  he  would  accept  the  offer." 

"  How  could  he,  and  carry  chain  twenty  miles  distant  ? 
We  haTe  been  here,  occasionally,  'a  few  days  at  a  time ; 
but  the  work  was  to  be  done,  and  it  must  be  done  on  the 
land  itself." 

"  Of  course,  you  merely  gave  your  friends  the  pleasure 
of  your  company,  and  looked  a  little  to  their  comforts,  on 
their  return  from  a  hard  day's  work  ?" 

Dus  raised  her  eyes  to  mine ;  smiled ;  then  she  looked 
sad,  her  under-lip  quivering  slightly ;  after  which  a  smile 
that  was  not  altogether  without  humour  succeeded.  I  watch 
ed  these  signs  of  varying  feeling  with  an  interest  I  cannot 
describe  ;  for  the  play  of  virtuous  and  ingenuous  emotion  on 
a  lovely  female  countenance  is  one  of  the  rarest  sights  in 
nature. 

"  I  can  carry  chain"  —  said  the  girl,  at  the  close  of  this 
exhibition  of  feeling. 
14* 


162  THE     CHAIN  BEARER. 

"  You  can  carry  chain,  Ursula — Dus,  or  whatever  I  am 
to  call  you — " 

"  Call  me  Dus — I  love  that  name  best." 

•'  You  can  carry  chain,  I  suppose  is  true  enough  —  but, 
you  do  not  mean  that  you  have  ?" 

The  face  of  Dus  flushed ;  but  she  looked  me  full  in  the 
eye,  as  she  nodded  her  head  to  express  an  affirmative ;  and 
she  smiled  as  sweetly  as  ever  woman  smiled. 

"  For  amusement — to  say  you  have  done  it — in  jest !" 

"  To  help  my  uncle  and  brother,  who  had  not  the  means 
to  hire  a  second  man." 

"  Good  God  !  Miss  Malbone — Ursula— Dus — " 

"  The  last  is  the  most  proper  name  for  a  Chainbearess," 
rejoined  the  girl,  smiling ;  and  actually  taking  my  hand  by 
an  involuntary  movement  of  her  sympathy  in  the  shock  I  so 
evidently  felt — "  But,  why  should  you  look  upon  that  little 
toil  as  so  shocking,  when  it  is  healthful  and  honest  ?  You 
are  thinking  of  a  sister  reduced  to  what  strikes  you  as  man's 
proper  work." 

Dus  relinquished  my  hand  almost  as  soon  as  she  had 
touched  it ;  and  she  did  it  with  a  slight  start,  as  if  shocked 
at  her  own  temerity. 

"  What  is  man's  work,  and  man's  work,  on/y." 

"  Yet,  woman  can  perform  it ;  and,  as  uncle  Chainbearer 
will  tell  you,  perform  it  well.  I  had  no  other  concern,  the 
month  I  was  at  work,  than  the  fear  that  my  strength  would 
not  enable  me  to  do  as  much  as  my  uncle  and  brother,  and 
thus  lessen  the  service  they  could  render  you  each  day. 
They  kept  me  on  the  dry  land,  so  there  were  no  wet  feet, 
and  your  woods  are  as  clear  of  underbrush  as  an  orchard. 
There  is  no  use  in  attempting  to  conceal  the  fact,  for  it  is 
known  to  many,  and  would  have  reached  your  ears  sooner 
or  later.  Then  concealment  is  always  painful  to  me,  and 
never  more  so  than  when  I  hear  you,  and  see  you  treating 
your  hired  servant  as  an  equal." 

"  Miss  Malbone ! — For  God's  sake,  let  me  hear  no  more 
of  this  —  old  Andries  judged  rightly  of  me,  in  wishing  to 
conceal  this ;  for  I  should  never  have  allowed  it  to  go  on  for 
a  moment." 

"  And  in  what  manner  could  you  have  prevented  it,  major 
Littlepage  1  My  uncle  has  taken  the  business  of  you  at  so 


THE    CHAIN  BEAKER, 


163 


much  the  day,  finding  surveyor  and  labourers  —  poor  dear 
Frank!  He,  at  least,  does  not  rank  with  the  labourers, 
and  as  for  my  uncle,  he  has  long  had  an  honest  pride  in 
being  the  best  chainbearer  in  the  country  —  why  need  his 
niece  scruple  about  sharing  in  his  well-earned  reputation  ?" 

"  But  you,  Miss  Malbone — dearest  Dus — who  have  been 
so  educated,  who  are  born  a  lady,  who  are  loved  by  Pris- 
cilla  Bayard,  the  sister  of  Frank,  are  not  in  your  proper 
sphere,  while  thus  occupied." 

"  It  is  not  so  easy  to  say  what  is  the  proper  sphere  of  a 
woman.  I  admit  it  ought  to  be,  in  general,  in  the  domestic 
circle,  and  under  the  domestic  roof;  but  circumstances  must 
control  that.  We  hear  of  wives  who  follow  their  husbands 
to  the  camp,  and  we  hear  of  nuns  who  come  out  of  their 
convents  to  attend  the  sick  and  wounded  in  hospitals.  It 
does  not  strike  me,  then,  as  so  bad  in  a  girl  who  offers  to 
aid  her  parent,  as  I  have  aided  mine,  when  the  alternative 
was  to  suffer  by  want." 

"  Gracious  Providence !  And  Andries  has  kept  me  in 
ignorance  of  all  this !  He  knew  my  purse  would  have  been 
his,  and  how  could  you  have  been  in  want  in  the  midst  of 
the  abundance  that  reigns  in  this  settlement,  which  is  only 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  from  your  hut,  as  I  know  from  the 
Chainbearer's  letters." 

"  Food  is  plenty,  I  allow,  but  we  had  no  money ;  and 
when  the  question  was  between  beggary  or  exertion,  we 
merely  chose  the  last.  My  uncle  did  try  old  Killian,  the 
black,  for  a  day ;  but  you  know  how  hard  it  is  to  make  one 
of  those  people  understand  anything  that  is  a  little  intricate ; 
and  then  I  offered  my  services.  I  am  intelligent  enough,  I 
trust"  —  the  girl  smiled  a  little  proudly  as  she  said  this  — 
"  and  you  can  have  no  notion  how  active  and  strong  I  am, 
for  light  work  like  this,  and  on  my  feet,  until  you  put  me  to 
the  proof.  Remember,  carrying  chain  is  neither  chopping 
wood  nor  piling  logs ;  nor  is  it  absolutely  unfeminine." 

"  Nor  raising  churches"  —  I  answered,  smiling ;  for  it 
was  not  easy  to  resist  the  contagion  of  the  girl's  spirit — "  at 
which  business  I  have  been  an  eye-witness  of  your  dexterity. 
However,  there  will  now  be  an  end  of  this.  It  is  fortunately 
in  my  power  to  offer  such  a  situation  and  such  emoluments 
to  Mr.  Malbone,  as  will  at  once  enable  him  to  place  his  sister 


164  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

in  this  house  as  its  mistress,  and  under  a  roof  that  is  at  least 
respectable." 

"  Bless  you  for  that !"  cried  Dus,  making  a  movement 
towards  catching  my  hand  again ;  but  checking  it  in  time 
to  render  the  deep  blush  that  instantly  suffused  her  face, 
almost  unnecessary.  "  Bless  you  for  that !  Frank  is  willing 
to  do  anything  that  is  honest,  and  capable  of  doing  anything 
that  a  gentleman  should  do.  I  am  the  great  encumbrance 
on  the  poor  fellow ;  for,  could  he  leave  me,  many  situations 
must  be  open  to  him  in  the  towns.  But,  I  cannot  quit  my 
uncle,  and  Frank  will  not  quit  me.  He  does  not  understand 
uncle  Chainbearer." 

"  Frank  must  be  a  noble  fellow,  and  I  honour  him  for  his 
attachment  to  such  a  sister.  This  makes  me  only  the  more 
anxious  to  carry  out  my  intentions." 

"  Which  are  such,  I  hope,  that  there  is  no  impropriety  in 
his  sister's  knowing  them  ?" 

This  was  said  with  such  an  expression  of  interest  in  the 
sweet,  blue  eyes,  and  with  so  little  of  the  air  of  common 
curiosity,  that  it  completely  charmed  me. 

"  Certainly  there  is  none,"  I  answered,  promptly  enough 
even  for  a  young  man  who  was  acting  under  the  influence 
of  so  much  ingenuous  and  strong  native  feeling ;  "  and  I 
shall  have  great  pleasure  in  telling  you.  We  have  long  been 
dissatisfied  with  our  agent  on  this  estate,  and  I  had  deter 
mined  to  offer  it  to  your  uncle.  The  same  difficulty  would 
have  to  be  overcome  in  this  case  as  there  was  in  making 
him  a  safe  surveyor — the  want  of  skill  in  figures ;  now,  this 
difficulty  will  not  exist  in  the  instance  of  your  brother ;  and 
the  whole  family,  Chainbearer  as  well  as  the  rest,  will  be 
benefited  by  giving  the  situation  to  Frank." 

"  You  call  him  Frank !"  cried  Dus,  laughing,  and  evi 
dently  delighted  with  what  she  heard.  "  That  is  a  good 
omen ;  but,  if  you  raise  me  to  the  station  of  an  agent's  sister, 
I  do  not  know  but  I  shall  insist  on  being  called  Ursula,  at 
least,  if  not  Miss  Ursula." 

I  scarce  knew  what  to  make  of  this  girl ;  there  was  so 
much  of  gaiety,  and  even  fun,  blended  with  a  mine  of  as 
deep  feeling  as  I  ever  saw  throwing  up  its  signs  to  the 
human  countenance.  Her  brother's  prospects  had  mado 


THE    CHAINBE  A.RER,  165 

her  even  gay ;  though  she  still  looked  as  if  anxious  to  hear 
more. 

"  You  may  claim  which  you  please,  for  Frank  shall  have 
his  name  put  into  the  new  power  of  attorney  within  the  hour. 
Mr.  Newcome  has  had  a  hint,  by  letter,  of  what  is  to  come, 
and  professes  great  happiness  in  getting  rid  of  a  vast  deal 
of  unrequited  trouble." 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  little  emolument,  if  he  is  glad  to  be 
rid  of  the  office." 

"  I  do  not  say  he  is  glad  ;  I  only  say  he  professes  to  be 
so.  These  are  different  things  with  certain  persons.  As 
for  the  emolument,  it  will  not  be  much  certainly ;  though  it 
will  be  enough  to  prevent  Frank's  sister  from  carrying  chain, 
and  leave  her  to  exercise  her  talents  and  industry  in  their 
proper  sphere.  In  the  first  place,  every  lease  on  the  estate 
is  to  be  renewed ;  and,  there  being  a  hundred,  and  the  tenant 
bearing  the  expense,  it  will  at  once  put  a  considerable  sum 
at  your  brother's  disposition.  I  cannot  say  that  the  annual 
commissions  will  amount  to  a  very  great  deal,  though  they 
will  exceed  a  hundred  a  year  by  the  terms  on  which  the 
lands  will  be  re-let.  The  use  of  this  house  and  farm,  how 
ever,  I  did  intend  to  offer  to  your  uncle ;  and,  for  the  same 
reason,  I  shall  offer  them  to  Frank." 

"  With  this  house  and  farm  we  shall  be  rich !"  exclaimed 
Dus,  clasping  her  hands  in  delight.  "  I  can  gather  a  school 
of  the  better  class  of  girls,  and  no  one  will  be  useless  —  no 
one  idle.  If  I  teach  your  tenants'  daughters  some  of  the 
ideas  of  their  sex  and  station,  Mr.  Littlepage,  you  will  reap 
the  benefit  in  the  end.  That  will  be  some  slight  return  for 
all  your  kindness." 

"  I  wish  all  of  your  sex,  and  of  the  proper  age,  who  are 
connected  with  me,  no  better  instructress.  Teach  them  your 
own  warmth  of  heart,  your  own  devotedness  of  feeling,  your 
own  truth,  and  your  own  frankness,  and  I  will  come  and 
dwell  on  my  own  estate,  as  the  spot  nearest  to  paradise." 

Dus  looked  a  little  alarmed,  I  thought,  as  if  she  feared 
she  might  have  uttered  too  much  ;  or,  perhaps,  that  /  was 
uttering  too  much.  She  rose,  thanked  me  hurriedly,  but  in 
a  very  lady-like  manner,  and  set  about  removing  the  break 
fast  service,  with  as  much  diligence  as  if  she  had  been  a 
mere  menial. 


166  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

Such  was  my  very  first  conversation  with  Ursula  Mai- 
bone  ;  her,  with  whom  I  have  since  held  so  many,  and  those 
that  have  been  very  different!  When  I  rose  to  seek  the 
Chain  bearer,  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  interest  in  my  late 
companion  that  was  as  strong  as  it  was  sudden.  I  shall 
not  deny  that  her  beauty  had  its  influence — it  would  be  un 
natural  that  it  should  not  —  but  it  was  less  her  exceeding 
beauty,  and  Ursula  Malbone  would  have  passed  for  one  of 
the  fairest  of  her  sex —  but  it  was  less  her  beauty  that  at 
tracted  me  than  her  directness,  truth,  and  ingenuousness, 
so  closely  blended  as  all  were  with  the  feelings  and  delicacy 
of  her  sex.  She  had  certainly  done  things  which,  had  I 
merely  heard  of  them,  would  have  struck  me  unpleasantly, 
as  even  bold  and  forward,  and  which  may  now  so  strike  the 
reader ;  but  this  would  be  doing  Dus  injustice.  No  act,  no 
word  of  her's,  not  even  the  taking  of  my  hand,  seemed  to 
me,  at  the  time,  as  in  the  least  forward ;  the  whole  move 
ment  being  so  completely  qualified  by  that  intensity  of  feel 
ing  which  caused  her  to  think  only  of  her  brother.  Nature 
and  circumstances  had  combined  to  make  her  precisely  the 
character  she  was ;  and  I  will  confess  I  did  not  wish  her  to 
be,  in  a  single  particular,  different  from  what  I  found  her. 

Talk  of  Pris.  Bayard  in  comparison  with  Ursula  Malbone ! 
Both  had  beauty,  it  is  true,  though  the  last  was  far  the  hand 
somest  ;  both  had  delicacy,  and  sentiment,  and  virtue,  and 
all  that  pertains  to  a  well-educated  young  woman,  if  you 
will ;  but,  Dus  had  a  character  of  her  own,  and  principles, 
and  an  energy,  and  a  decision,  that  made  her  the  girl  of  ten 
thousand,  if  do  not  think  I  could  be  said  to  be  actually  in 
love  when  I  left  that  room,  for  I  do  not  wish  to  appear  so 
very  easy  to  receive  impressions  as  all  that  would  come  to; 
but  I  will  own  no  female  had  ever  before  interested  me  a 
tenth  part  as  much,  though  I  had  known,  and  possibly  ad 
mired  her,  a  twelvemonth. 

In  the  court  I  found  Andries  measuring  his  chains.  This 
he  did  periodically  ;  and  it  was  as  conscientiously  as  if  he 
were  weighing  gold.  The  old  man  manifested  no  conscious 
ness  of  the  length  of  the  fete-d-tite  I  had  held  with  his  niece  ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  the  first  words  he  uttered  were  to  an 
effect  that  proved  he  fancied  I  had  been  alone. 

"  I  peg  your  parton,  lat,"  he  said,  holding  his  measuring- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  167 

rod  m  his  mouth  while  he  spoke.  "  I  peg  your  parton,  put 
this  is  very  necessary  work.  I  do  not  wish  to  haf  any  of 
your  Yankee  settlers  crying  out  hereafter  against  the  chain- 
pearer's  surveys.  Let  'em  come  a  huntret  or  a  t'ousant 
years  hence,  if  t'ey  will,  and  measure  t'e  lant ;  I  want  olt 
Andries'  survey  to  stant." 

"  The  variation  of  the  compass  will  make  some  difference 
in  the  two  surveys,  my  good  friend,  unless  the  surveyors 
are  better  than  one  commonly  finds." 

The  old  man  dropped  his  rod  and  his  chain,  and  looked 
despondingly  at  me. 

"  True,"  he  said,  with  emphasis.  "  You  haf  hit  t'e  nail 
on  t'e  heat,  Mortaunt — t'at  fariation  is  t'e  ferry  teffil  to  get 
along  wit' !  I  haf  triet  it  t'is-a-way,  and  I  haf  triet  it  t'at- 
a-way,  and  never  coult  I  make  heat  or  tail  of  it !  I  can  see 
no  goot  of  a  fariation  at  all." 

"  What  does  your  pretty  assistant  Dus,  think  of  it  ?  Dus, 
the  pretty  Chainbearer?  You  will  lose  your  old,  hard- 
earned  appellation,  which  will  be  borne  off  by  Miss  Mai- 
bone." 

"  T'en  Dus  hast  peen  telling  you  all  apout  it !  A  woman 
never  can  keep  a  secret.  No,  natur'  hast  male  'em  talkatif, 
and  t'e  parrot  will  chatter." 

"  A  woman  likes  variation,  notwithstanding  —  did  you 
consult  Dus  on  that  difficulty  ?" 

"  No,  no,  poy ;  I  sait  not'ing  to  Dus,  ant  I  am  sorry  she 
hast  sait  anyt'ing  to  you  apout  t'is  little  matter  of  t'e  chain. 
It  was  sorely  against  my  will,  Mortaunt,  t'at  t'e  gal  ever 
carriet  it  a  rot ;  and  was  it  to  do  over  ag'in,  she  shoult  not 
carry  it  a  rot — yet  it  woult  have  tone  your  heart  goot  to  see 
how  prettily  she  did  her  work ;  and  how  quick  she  wast ; 
and  how  true ;  and  how  accurate  she  put  down  t'e  marker ; 
and  how  sartain  was  her  eye.  Natur'  made  t'at  fery  gal 
for  a  chainpearer !" 

"  And  a  chainbearer  she  has  been,  and  a  chainbearer  she 
ever  will  be,  until  she  throws  her  chains  on  some  poor  fellow, 
and  binds  him  down  for  life.  Andries,  you  have  an  angel 
with  you  here,  and  not  a  woman  !" 

Most  men  in  the  situation  of  the  Chainbearer  might  have 
been  alarmed  at  hearing  such  language  coming  from  a  young 
man,  and  under  all  the  circumstances  of  the  caso.  But 


168  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

Andries  Coejemans  never  had  any  distrust  of  mortal  whr 
possessed  his  ordinary  confidence ;  and  I  question  if  he  eve? 
entertained  a  doubt  about  myself  on  any  point,  the  result  of 
his  own,  rather  than  of  my  character.  Instead  of  manifest' 
ing  uneasiness  or  displeasure,  he  turned  to  me,  his  whole 
countenance  illuminated  with  the  affection  he  felt  for  hi* 
niece,  and  said — 

"  T'e  gal  ist  an  excellent  gal,  Mortaunt ;  a  capital  crea 
ture  !  It  woult  haf  tone  your  heart  goot,  I  tell  you,  to  see 
her  carry  chain !  Your  pocket  is  none  t'e  worse  for  t'e 
mont'  she  worked,  t'ough  1  woult  not  haf  you  t'ink  I  charget 
for  her  ast  for  a  man — no — she  is  town  at  only  half-price, 
woman's  work  peing  woman's  work ;  yet  I  do  pelieve,  on 
my  conscience,  t'at  we  went  over  more  grount  in  t'at  mont', 
fan  we  coult  haf  tone  wit'  any  man  t'at  wast  to  pe  hiret  in 
t'is  part  of  t'e  worlt — I  do,  inteet !" 

How  strange  all  this  sounded  to  me !  Charged  for  work 
done  by  Ursula  Malbone,  and  charged  at  half-price  !  We 
are  the  creatures  of  convention,  and  the  slaves  of  opinions 
that  come  we  know  not  whence.  I  had  got  the  notions  of 
my  caste,  obtained  in  the  silent,  insinuating  manner  in 
which  all  our  characters  are  formed ;  and  nothing  short  of 
absolute  want  could  have  induced  me  to  accept  pecuniary 
compensation  from  an  individual  for  any  personal  service 
rendered.  I  had  no  profession,  and  it  did  not  comport  with 
our  usages  for  a  gentleman  to  receive  money  for  personal 
service  out  of  the  line  of  a  profession ;  an  arbitrary  rule, 
but  one  to  which  most  of  us  submit  with  implicit  obedience. 
The  idea  that  Dus  had  been  paid  by  myself  for  positive  toil, 
therefore,  was  extremely  repugnant  to  me ;  and  it  was  only 
after  reflection  that  I  came  to  view  the  whole  affair  as  I 
ought,  and  to  pass  to  the  credit  of  the  noble-minded  girl, 
and  this  without  any  drawback,  an  act  that  did  her  so  much 
honour.  I  wish  to  represent  myself  as  no  better,  or  wiser, 
or  more  rational  than  I  was ;  and,  I  fancy  few  young  men 
of  my  age  and  habits  would  hear  with  much  delight,  at  first, 
that  the  girl  he  felt  himself  impelled  to  love  had  been  thus 
employed  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  few  would  fail  to  arrive 
at  the  same  conclusions,  on  reflection,  as  those  I  reached 
myself. 

The  discourse  with  Andries  Coejemans  was  interrupted 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  169 

by  the  sudden  entrance  of  Frank  Malbone  into  the  court. 
This  was  my  first  meeting  with  my  young  surveyor,  and 
Chainbearer  introduced  us  to  each  other  in  his  usual  hearty 
and  frank  manner.  In  a  minute  we  were  acquainted ;  the 
sld  man  inquiring  as  to  the  success  of  the  settlers  in  getting 
up  their  "  meetin'-us." 

"  I  staid  until  they  had  begun  to  place  the  rafters,"  an 
swered  young  Malbone,  cheerfully,  "  and  then  I  left  them. 
The  festivities  are  to  end  with  a  ball,  I  hear ;  but  I  was  too 
anxious  to  learn  how  my  sister  reached  home  —  I  ought  to 
say  reached  the  'Nest  —  to  remain.  We  have  little  other 
home  now,  Mr.  Littlepage,  than  the  hut  in  the  woods,  and 
the  roof  your  hospitality  offers." 

"  Brother  soldiers,  sir,  and  brother  soldiers  in  such  a 
cause,  ought  to  have  no  more  scruples  about  accepting  such 
hospitalities,  as  you  call  them,  than  in  offering  them.  I  am 
glad,  however,  that  you  have  adverted  to  the  subject,  inas 
much  as  it  opens  the  way  to  a  proposition  I  have  intended 
to  make ;  which,  if  accepted,  will  make  me  your  guest,  and 
which  may  as  well  be  made  now  as  a  week  later." 

Both  Andries  and  Frank  looked  surprised  ;  but  I  led  them 
to  a  bench  on  the  open  side  of  the  court,  and  invited  them 
to  be  seated,  while  I  explained  myself.  It  may  be  well  to 
say  a  word  of  that  seat,  in  passing.  It  stood  on  the  verge  of 
a  low  cliff  of  rocks,  on  the  side  of  the  court  which  had  been 
defended  by  palisades,  when  the  French  held  the  Canadas, 
and  the  remains  of  which  were  still  to  be  seen.  Here,  as  I 
was  told  before  we  left  the  spot,  Dus,  my  pretty  chainbearer, 
with  a  woman's  instinct  for  the  graceful  and  beautiful,  had 
erected  an  arbour,  principally  with  her  own  hands,  planted 
one  of  the  swift-growing  vines  of  our  climate,  and  caused  a 
seat  to  be  placed  within.  The  spot  commanded  a  pleasing 
view  of  a  wide  expanse  of  meadows,  and  of  a  distant  hill 
side,  that  still  lay  in  the  virgin  forest.  Andries  told  me  that 
his  niece  had  passed  much  of  her  leisure  time  in  that  arbour, 
since  the  growth  of  the  plant,  with  the  advance  of  the  sea 
son,  had  brought  the  seat  into  the  shade. 

Placing  myself  between  the  Chainbearer  and  Malbone,  I 

communicated  the  intention  I  had  formed  of  making  tho 

latter  my  agent.     As  an  inducement  to  accept  the  situation, 

I  offered  the  use  of  the  Nest-house  and  Nest-farm,  reserving 

15 


170  THE     CHAIN  BE  AREK. 

to  myself  the  room  or  two  that  had  been  my  grandfather's, 
and  that  only  at  the  times  of  my  annual  visits  to  the  pro 
perty.  As  the  farm  was  large,  and  of  an  excellent  quality 
of  land,  it  would  abundantly  supply  the  wants  of  a  family 
of  modest  habits,  and  even  admit  of  sales  to  produce  the 
means  of  purchasing  such  articles  of  foreign  growth  as  might 
be  necessary.  In  a  word,  I  laid  before  the  listeners  the  whole 
of  my  plan,  which  was  a  good  deal  enlarged  by  a  secret  wish 
to  render  Ursula  comfortable,  without  saying  anything  about 
the  motive. 

The  reader  is  not  to  suppose  I  was  exhibiting  any  extra 
ordinary  liberality  in  doing  that  which  I  have  related.  It 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  land  was  a  drug  in  the  State  of 
New  York  in  the  year  1784,  as  it  is  to-day  on  the  Miami, 
Ohio,  Mississippi,  and  other  inland  streams.  The  proprietors 
thought  but  little  of  their  possessions  as  the  means  of  present 
support,  but  rather  maintained  their  settlements  than  their 
settlements  maintained  them ;  looking  forward  to  another 
age,  and  to  their  posterity,  for  the  rewards  of  all  their  trou 
ble  and  investments.* 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  my  proposals  were  gladly 
accepted.  Old  Andries  squeezed  my  hand,  and  I  understood 
the  pressure  as  fully  as  if  he  had  spoken  with  the  eloquence 
of  Patrick  Henry.  Frank  Mai  bone  was  touched ;  and  all 
parties  were  perfectly  satisfied.  The  surveyor  had  his  field- 
inkstand  with  him,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  I  had  the 
Power-of- Attorney  in  my  pocket  ready  for  the  insertion  of 
the  Chainbearer's  name,  would  he  accept  the  office  of  agent. 
That  of  Malbone  was  written  in  its  stead  ;  I  signed  ;  Andries 
witnessed  ;  and  we  left  the  seat  together ;  Frank  Malbone, 
in  effect,  temporarily  master  of  the  house  in  which  we  .were, 

*  The  Manor  of  Rensselaerwick  virtually  extends  forty-eight  miles 
east  and  west,  and  twenty-four  north  and  south.  It  is  situated  in  the 
very  heart  of  New  York,  with  three  incorporated  cities  within  its 
limits,  built,  in  part,  on  small,  older  grants.  Albany  is  a  town  of  near, 
if  not  of  quite  40,000  souls ;  and  Troy  must  now  contain  near  28,000. 
Yet,  the  late  Patroon,  in  the  last  conversation  he  ever  held  with  the 
writer,  only  a  few  months  before  he  died,  stated  that  his  grandfather 
was  the  first  proprietor  who  ever  reaped  any  material  advantage  from 
the  estate,  and  his  father  the  first  who  received  any  income  of  consi 
derable  amount.  The  home  property,  farms  and  mills,  furnished  the 
inccme  of  tho  family  for  moro  than  a  century.  —  EDITOR. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  171 

and  his  charming  sister,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  its 
mistress.  It  was  a  delicious  moment  to  me,  when  I  saw 
Dus  throw  herself  into  her  brother's  arms,  and  weep  on  his 
bosom,  as  he  communicated  to  her  the  joyful  intelligence. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

tt  A  comfortable  doctrine,  and  much  may  be  said  of  it.  Where  lic» 
your  text  ?"  Twelfth.  Night ;  or  What  You  Will. 

A  MONTH  glided  swiftly  by.  During  that  interval,  Frank 
Malbone  was  fully  installed,  and  Andries  consented  to  sus 
pend  operations  with  his  chain,  until  this  necessary  work 
was  completed.  Work  it  was ;  for  every  lease  granted  by 
my  grandfather  having  run  out,  the  tenants  had  remained 
on  their  farms  by  sufferance,  or  as  occupants  at  will,  hold 
ing  from  year  to  year  under  parole  agreements  made  with 
Mr.  Newcome,  who  had  authority  to  go  that  far,  but  no 
farther. 

It  was  seldom  that  a  landlord,  in  that  day,  as  I  have 
already  said,  got  any  income  from  his  lands  during  the  first 
few  years  of  their  occupation.  The  great  thing  was  to  in 
duce  settlers  to  come ;  for,  where  there  was  so  much  com 
petition,  sacrifices  had  to  be  made  in  order  to  effect  this  pre 
liminary  object.  In  compliance  with  this  policy,  my  grand 
father  had  let  his  wild  lands  for  nominal  rents  in  nearly 
every  instance,  with  here  and  there  a  farm  of  particular 
advantages  excepted ;  and,  in  most  cases,  the  settler  had 
enjoyed  the  use  of  the  farm  for  several  years,  for  no  rent  at 
all.  He  paid  the  taxes,  which  were  merely  nominal,  and 
principally  to  support  objects  that  were  useful  to  the  imme 
diate  neighbourhood ;  such  as  the  construction  of  roads, 
bridges,  pounds,  with  other  similar  works,  and  the  adminis 
tration  of  justice.  At  the  expiration  of  this  period  of  non 
payment  of  rents,  a  small  sum  per  acre  was  agreed  to  be 
paid,  rather  than  actually  paid,  not  a  dollar  of  which  had 
ever  left  the  settlement.  The  landlord  was  expected  to  head 


172  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

all  subscriptions  for  everything  that  was  beneficial,  or  which 
professed  to  be  beneficial  to  the  estate ;  and  the  few  hundreds 
a  year,  two  or  three  at  most,  that  my  rent-roll  actually  ex 
hibited,  were  consumed  among  the  farms  of  the  Nest.  It 
was  matter  of  record  that  not  one  shilling  had  the  owner  of 
this  property,  as  yet,  been  able  to  carry  away  with  him  for 
his  own  private  purposes.  It  is  true,  it  had  been  in  his 
power  to  glean  a  little  each  year  for  such  a  purpose ;  but  it 
was  not  considered  politic,  and  consequently  it  was  not  the 
practice  of  the  country,  in  regard  to  estates  so  situated  and 
before  the  revolution ;  though  isolated  cases  to  the  contrary, 
in  which  the  landlord  was  particularly  avaricious,  or  parti 
cularly  necessitous,  may  have  existed.  Our  New  York 
proprietors,  in  that  day,  were  seldom  of  the  class  that  needed 
money.  Extravagance  had  been  little  known  to  the  province, 
and  could  not  yet  be  known  to  the  State ;  consequently,  few 
lost  their  property  from  their  expenditures,  though  some  did 
from  mismanagement.  The  trade  of  "  puss  in  the  corner," 
or  of  shoving  a  man  out  of  his  property,  in  order  to  place 
oneself  in  it,  was  little  practised  previously  to  the  revolution  ; 
and  the  community  always  looked  upon  the  intruder  into 
family  property  with  a  cold  eye,  unless  he  came  into  posses 
sion  by  fair  purchase,  and  for  a  sufficient  price.  Legal 
speculations  were  then  nearly  unknown ;  and  he  who  got 
rich  was  expected  to  do  so  by  manly  exertions,  openly  exer 
cised,  and  not  by  the  dark  machinations  of  a  sinister  prac 
tice  of  the  law. 

In  our  case,  not  a  shilling  had  we,  as  yet,  been  benefited 
by  the  property  of  Ravensnest.  All  that  had  ever  been  re 
ceived,  and  more  too,  had  been  expended  on  the  spot ;  but  a 
time  had  now  arrived  when  it  was  just  and  reasonable  that 
the  farms  should  make  some  returns  for  all  our  care  and 
outlays. 

Eleven  thousand  acres  were  under  lease,  divided  among 
somewhat  less  than  a  hundred  tenants.  Until  the  first  day 
of  the  succeeding  April,  these  persons  could  hold  their  lands 
under  the  verbal  contracts ;  but,  after  that  day,  new  leases 
became  necessary.  It  is  not  usual  for  the  American  land 
lord  to  be  exacting.  It  is  out  of  his  power,  indeed,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  land  is  so  much  more  abundant  than 
men ;  but,  it  is  not  the  practice  of  the  country,  a  careless 


TUB    CHAIN  BBARBR.  I7o 

indulgence  being  usually  the  sin  of  the  caste ;  an  indulgence 
that  admits  of  an  accumulation  of  arrears  which,  when  pay 
day  does  arrive,  is  apt  to  bring  with  it  ill-blood  and  discon 
tent.  It  is  an  undeniable  truth  in  morals,  that,  whatever 
may  be  the  feeling  at  the  time,  men  are  rarely  grateful  for 
a  government  that  allows  their  vices  to  have  a  free  exercise. 
They  invariably  endeavour  to  throw  a  portion  of  the  odium 
of  their  own  misdeeds  on  the  shoulders  of  those  who  should 
have  controlled  them.  It  is  the  same  with  debt ;  for,  how 
ever  much  we  may  beg  for  lenity  at  the  time,  accumulations 
of  interest  wear  a  very  hostile  aspect  when  they  present 
themselves  in  a  sum-total,  at  a  moment  it  is  inconvenient  to 
balance  the  account.  If  those  who  have  been  thus  placed 
would  only  remember  that  there  is  a  last  great  account  that 
every  man  must  be  called  on  to  settle,  arrearages  and  all, 
the  experience  of  their  worldly  affairs  might  suggest  a  lesson 
that  would  be  infinitely  useful.  It  is  fortunate  for  us,  with 
out  exception,  that  there  is  a  Mediator  to  aid  us  in  the  task. 

The  time  had  come  when  Ravensnest  might  be  expected 
to  produce  something.  Guided  by  the  surveys,  and  our  own 
local  knowledge,  and  greatly  aided  by  the  Chainbearer's 
experience,  Frank  Malbone  and  I  passed  one  entire  fortnight 
in  classifying  the  farms ;  putting  the  lowest  into  the  shilling 
category ;  others  into  the  eighteen  pence ;  and  a  dozen  farms 
or  so  into  the  two  shillings.  The  result  was,  that  we  placed 
six  thousand  acres  at  a  shilling  a  year  rent ;  three  thousand 
eight  hundred  at  eighteen  pence  the  acre ;  and  twelve  hun 
dred  acres  at  two  shillings.  The  whole  made  a  rental  of 
fourteen  thousand  one  hundred  shillings,  or  a  fraction  more 
than  seventeen  hundred  and  forty-two  dollars  per  annum. 
This  sounded  pretty  well  for  the  year  1784,  and  it  was  ex 
clusively  of  the  Nest  farm,  of  Jason  Newcome's  mills  and 
timber-land,  which  he  had  hitherto  enjoyed  for  nothing,  or 
for  a  mere  nominal  rent,  and  all  the  wild  lands. 

I  will  confess  I  exulted  greatly  in  the  result  of  our  calcu 
lations.  Previously  to  that  day,  I  had  placed  no  dependence 
on  Ravensnest  for  income,  finding  my  support  in  the  other 
property  I  had  inherited  from  my  grandfather.  On  paper, 
my  income  was  more  than  doubled,  for  I  received  then  only 
some  eleven  hundred  a  year  (I  speak  of  dollars,  not  pounds) 
from  my  other  property.  It  is  true,  the  last  included  a  great 


174  THB    CHAIWBBARKK. 

many  town-lots  that  were  totally  unproductive,  but  which 
promised  to  be  very  valuable,  like  Ravensnest  itself,  at  some 
future  day.  Most  things  in  America  looked  to  the  future, 
then  as  now ;  though  I  trust  the  hour  of  fruition  is  eventually 
to  arrive.  My  town  property  has  long  since  become  very 
valuable,  and  tolerably  productive. 

As  soon  as  our  scheme  for  re-letting  was  matured,  Frank 
summoned  the  occupants  of  the  farms,  in  bodies  of  ten,  to 
present  themselves  at  the  Nest,  in  order  to  take  their  new 
leases.  We  had  ridden  round  the  estate,  and  conversed  with 
the  tenantry,  and  had  let  my  intentions  be  known  previously, 
so  that  little  remained  to  be  discussed.  The  farms  were  all 
re-let  for  three  lives,  and  on  my  own  plan,  no  one  objecting 
to  the  rent,  which,  it  was  admitted  all  round,  was  not  only 
reasonable,  but  low.  Circumstances  were  then  too  recent 
to  admit  of  the  past's  being  forgotten  ;  and  the  day  when  the 
last  lease  was  signed  was  one  of  general  satisfaction.*  I  did 
think  of  giving  a  landlord's  dinner,  and  of  collecting  the 
whole  settlement  in  a  body,  for  the  purposes  of  jovial  and 
friendly  communion ;  but  old  Andries  threw  cold  water  on 
the  project. 

"  T'at  would  do,  Mortaunt,"  he  said,  "  if  you  hat  only 
raal  New  Yorkers,  or  Middle  States'  men  to  teal  wit' ;  but 
more  t'an  half  of  t'ese  people  are  from  t'e  Eastern  States, 
where  t'ere  are  no  such  t'ings  as  lantlorts  and  tenants,  on  a 
large  scale  you  unterstant ;  and  t'ere  isn't  a  man  among  'em 
all  t'at  isn't  looking  forwart  to  own  his  farm  one  tay,  by 
hook  or  by  crook.  T'ey  're  as  jealous  of  t'eir  tignities  as  if 
each  man  wast  a  full  colonel,  and  will  not  t'ank  you  for  a 
tinner  at  which  t'ey  will  seem  to  play  secont  fittle." 

Although  I  knew  the  Chainbearer  had  his  ancient  Dutch 
prejudices  against  our  eastern  brethren,  I  also  knew  that 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  what  he  said.  Frank 
Malbone,  who  was  Rhode  Island  born,  had  the  same  no 
tions,  I  found  on  inquiry ;  and  I  was  disposed  to  defer  to 
his  opinions.  Frank  Malbone  was  a  gentleman  himself,  and 
men  of  that  class  are  always  superior  to  low  jealousies  ;  but 
Frank  must  know  better  how  to  appreciate  the  feelings  of 
those  among  whom  he  had  been  bred  and  born  than  I  could 
possibly  know  how  to  do  it  myself.  The  project  of  the  dinner 
was  accordingly  abandoned. 


THE     CHAINBEARER 


175 


It  remained  to  make  a  new  arrangement  and  a  final  set 
tlement  with  Mr.  Jason  Newcome,  who  was  much  the  most 
thriving  man  at  Ravensnest;  appearing  to  engross  in  hia 
single  person  all  the  business  of  the  settlement.  He  was 
magistrate,  supervisor,  deacon,  according  to  the  Congrega 
tional  plan,  or  whatever  he  is  called,  miller,  store-keeper, 
will-drawer,  tavern-keeper  by  deputy,  and  adviser-general, 
for  the  entire  region.  Everything  seemed  to  pass  through 
his  hands ;  or,  it  would  be  better  to  say,  everything  entered 
them,  though  little  indeed  came  out  again.  This  man  was 
one  of  those  moneyed  gluttons,  on  a  small  scale,  who  live 
solely  to  accumulate ;  in  my  view,  the  most  odious  character 
on  earth  ;  the  accumulations  having  none  of  the  legitimate 
objects  of  proper  industry  and  enterprise  in  view.  So  long 
as  there  was  a  man  near  him  whom  he  supposed  to  be  richer 
than  himself,  Mr.  Newcome  would  have  been  unhappy; 
though  he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  the  property  he 
had  already  acquired.  One  does  not  know  whether  to  detest 
or  to  pity  such  characters  the  most ;  since,  while  they  are 
and  must  be  repugnant  to  every  man  of  right  feelings  and 
generous  mind,  they  carry  in  their  own  bosoms  the  worm 
that  never  dies,  to  devour  their  own  vitals. 

Mr.  Newcome  had  taken  his  removal  from  the  agency  in 
seeming  good  part,  affecting  a  wish  to  give  it  up  from  the 
moment  he  had  reason  to  think  it  was  to  be  taken  from  him. 
On  this  score,  therefore,  all  was  amicable,  not  a  complaint 
being  made  on  his  side.  On  the  contrary,  he  met  Frank 
Malbone  with  the  most  seeming  cordiality,  and  we  proceed 
ed  to  business  with  as  much  apparent  good-will  as  had  been 
manifested  in  any  of  the  previous  bargains.  Mr.  Newcome 
did  nothing  directly  ;  a  circuitous  path  being  the  one  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  travel  from  childhood. 

"  You  took  the  mill-lot  and  the  use  of  five  hundred  acres 
of  wood-land  from  my  grandfather  for  three  lives ;  or  failing 
these,  for  a  full  term  of  one-and-twenty  years,  I  find,  Mr. 
Newcome,"  I  remarked,  as  soon  as  we  were  seated  at  busi 
ness,  "  and  for  a  nominal  rent ;  the  mills  to  be  kept  in  re 
pair,  and  to  revert  to  the  landlord  at  the  termination  of  the 


"  Yes,  major  Littlepage,  that  was  the  bargain  I  will  allow, 
though  a  hard  one  has  it  proved  to  me.     The  war  come 


•176  THE    CHAIftBBARBR. 

on" — this  man  was  what  was  called  liberally  educated,  b'rt 
he  habitually  used  bad  grammar—"  The  war  come  on,  and 
with  it  hard  times,  and  I  didn't  know  but  the  major  would 
be  willing  to  consider  the  circumstances,  if  we  make  a  new 
bargain." 

"  The  war  cannot  have  had  much  effect  to  your  prejudice, 
as  grain  of  all  sorts  bore  a  high  price ;  and  I  should  think 
the  fact  that  large  armies  were  near  by,  to  consume  every 
thing  you  had  to  sell,  and  that  at  high  prices,  more  than 
compensated  for  any  disadvantage  it  might  have  induced. 
You  had  the  benefits  of  two  wars,  Mr.  Newcome ;  that  of 
1775,  and  a  part  of  that  of  1756." 

My  tenant  made  no  answer  to  this,  finding  I  had  reflected 
on  the  subject,  and  was  prepared  to  answer  him.  After  a 
pause,  he  turned  to  more  positive  things. 

"  I  suppose  the  major  goes  on  the  principle  of  supposing 
a  legal  right  in  an  old  tenant  to  enj'y  a  new  lease  ?  I  'm 
told  he  has  admitted  this  much  in  all  his  dealin's." 

"  Then  you  have  been  misinformed,  sir.  I  am  not  weak 
enough  to  admit  a  right  that  the  lease  itself,  which,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  must  and  does  form  the  tenant's  only  title, 
contradicts  in  terms.  Your  legal  interest  in  the  property 
ceases  altogether  in  a  few  days  from  this  time." 

"  Y-a-a-s  —  y-a-a-s  —  sir,  I  conclude  it  doose,"  said  the 
'squire,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  until  his  body  was  at  an 
angle  of  some  sixty  or  seventy  degrees  with  the  floor  —  "  I 
conclude  it  doose  accordin'  to  the  covenants ;  but,  between 
man  and  man,  there  ought  to  be  suthin'  more  bindin'." 

"  I  know  of  nothing  more  binding  in  a  lease  than  its  co 
venants,  Mr.  Newcome." 

"  Wa-a-1"  —  how  that  man  would  '  wa-a-a-1'  when  he 
wished  to  circumvent  a  fellow-creature ;  and  with  what  a 
Jesuitical  accent  he  did  pronounce  the  word  !  — "  Wa-a-1  — 
that 's  accordin'  to  folk's  idees.  A  covenant  may  be  hard  ; 
and  then,  in  my  judgment,  it  ought  to  go  for  nothin'.  I'm 
ag'in  all  hard  covenants." 

"  Harkee,  frient  Jason,"  put  in  the  Chainbearer,  who  was 
an  old  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Newcome's,  and  appeared  tho 
roughly  to  understand  his  character — "Harkee,  frient  Jason; 
do  you  gif  pack  unexpected  profits,  ven  it  so  happens  t'ai 
rr>  ;re  are  mate  on  your  own  pai  gains  t'an  were  looket  for  V* 


THB    CHAINBEARER.  177 

•«  It 's  not  of  much  use  to  convarse  with  you,  Chainbearer, 
on  such  subjects,  for  we  '11  never  think  alike,"  answered  the 
'squire,  leaning  still  farther  back  in  his  chair;  "you're 
what  I  call  a  partic'lar  man,  in  your  notions,  and  we  should 
never  agree." 

"  Still,  there  is  good  sense  in  Chainbearer's  question, 
added.  "  Unless  prepared  to  answer  *  yes,'  I  do  not  see  how 
you  can  apply  your  own  principle  with  any  justice.     But, 
let  this  pass  as  it  will,  why  are  covenants  made,  if  they  are 
not  to  be  regarded  ?" 

"  Wa-a-1,  now,  accordin'  to  my  notion,  a  covenant  in  a 
lease  is  pretty  much  like  a  water-course  in  a  map ;  not  a 
thing  to  be  partic'lar  at  all  about ;  but,  as  water-courses  look 
well  on  a  map,  so  covenants  read  well  in  a  lease.  Land 
lords  like  to  have  'em,  and  tenants  a'n't  partic'lar." 

"  You  can  hardly  be  serious  in  either  case,  I  should  hope, 
Mr.  Newcome,  but  are  pleased  to  exercise  your  ingenuity 
on  us  for  your  own  amusement.  There  is  nothing  so  parti 
cular  in  the  covenants  of  your  lease  as  to  require  any  case 
of  conscience  to  decide  on  its  points." 

"  There  's  this  in  it,  major,  that  you  get  the  whull  pro 
perty  back  ag'in,  if  you  choose  to  claim  it." 

"  Claim  it ! — The  whole  property  has  been  mine,  or  my 
predecessors',  ever  since  it  was  granted  to  us  by  the  crown. 
All  your  rights  come  from  your  lease  ;  and  when  that  ter 
minates,  your  rights  terminate." 

"  Not  accordin'  to  my  judgment,  major ;  not  accordin'  to 
my  judgment.  I  built  the  mills,  at  my  own  cost,  you  '11  re 
member." 

"  I  certainly  know,  sir,  that  you  built  the  mills,  at  what 
you  call  your  own  cost ;  that  is,  you  availed  yourself  of  a 
natural  mill-seat,  used  our  timber  and  other  materials,  and 
constructed  the  mills,  such  as  they  are,  looking  for  your 
reward  in  their  use  for  the  term  of  a  quarter  of  a  century, 
for  a  mere  nominal  rent  —  having  saw-logs  at  command  as 
you  wanted  them,  and  otherwise  enjoying  privileges  under 
one  of  the  most  liberal  leases  that  was  ever  granted." 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  that  was  in  the  bargain  I  made  with  your 
grand'ther.  It  was  agreed  between  us,  at  the  time  I  took  the 
place,  that  I  was  to  cut  logs  at  will,  and  of  course  use  the 
materials  on  the  ground  for  buildin'.  You  see,  major,  your 


178  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

grand'ther  wanted  mills  built  desperately ;  and  so  he  gave 
them  conditions  accordin'ly.  You  '11  find  every  syllable  on't 
in  the  lease." 

"  No  doubt,  Mr.  Newcome ;  and  you  will  also  find  a  co 
venant  in  the  same  lease,  by  which  your  interest  in  the  pro 
perty  is  to  cease  in  a  few  days." 

"  Wa-a-11,  now,  I  don't  understand  leases  in  that  way. 
Surely  it  was  never  intended  a  man  should  erect  mills,  to 
lose  all  right  in  'em  at  the  end  of  five-and-twenty  years  !" 

"That  will  depend  on  the  bargain  made  at  the  time. 
Some  persons  erect  mills  and  houses  that  have  no  rights  in 
them  at  all.  They  are  paid  for  their  work  as  they  build." 

"  Yes,  yes — carpenters  and  mill-wrights,  you  mean.  But 
I  'm  speakin'  of  no  such  persons ;  I  'm  speakin'  of  honest, 
hard-workin',  industrious  folks,  that  give  their  labour  and 
time  to  build  up  a  settlement ;  and  not  of  your  mechanics 
who  work  for  hire.  Of  course,  they  're  to  be  paid  for  what 
they  do,  and  there  's  an  eend  on  V 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  all  honest  persons  are  hard-working, 
and  more  than  that  all  hard-working  persons  are  honest.  I 
wish  to  be  understood  that,  in  the  first  place,  Mr.  Newcome. 
Phrases  will  procure  no  concession  from  me.  I  agree  with 
you,  however,  perfectly,  in  saying  that  when  a  man  is  paid 
for  his  work,  there  will  be  what  you  call  '  an  end  of  it.' 
Now,  twenty-three  days  from  this  moment,  you  will  have 
been  paid  for  all  you  have  done  on  my  property  according 
to  your  own  agreement ;  and,  by  your  own  reasoning,  there 
must  be  an  end  of  your  connection  with  that  property." 

"  The  major  doosn't  ra-a-lly  mean  to  rob  me  of  all  my 
hard  earnin's !" 

"  Mr.  Newcome,  rob  is  a  hard  word,  and  one  I  beg  that 
may  not  be  again  used  between  you  and  me.  I  have  no 
intention  to  rob  you,  or  to  let  you  rob  me.  The  pretence 
that  you  are  not,  and  were  not  acquainted  with  the  conditions 
of  this  lease,  comes  rather  late  in  the  day,  after  a  possession 
of  a  quarter  of  a  century.  You  know  very  well  that  my 
grandfather  would  not  sell,  and  that  he  would  do  no  more 
than  lease ;  if  it  were  your  wish  to  purchase,  why  did  you 
not  go  elsewhere,  and  get  land  in  fee  ?  There  were,  and 
are  still,  thousands  of  acres  to  be  sold,  all  around  you. 
have  lands  to  sell,  myself,  at  Mooseridge,  as  the  agent  of 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  179 

my  father  and  colonel  Pollock,  within  twenty  miles  of  you, 
and  they  tell  me  capital  mill-seats  in  the  bargain." 

"  Yes,  major,  but  not  so  much  to  my  notion  as  this  —  I 
kind  o'  wanted  this  !" 

"  But,  I  kind  o'  want  this,  too ;  and,  as  it  is  mine,  I  think, 
in  common  equity,  I  have  the  best  claim  to  enjoy  it." 

"  It 's  on  equity  I  want  to  put  this  very  matter,  major  — - 
I  know  the  law  is  ag'in  me  —  that  is,  some  people  say  it  is ; 
but,  some  think  not,  now  we  Ve  had  a  revolution  —  but,  let 
the  law  go  as  it  may,  there  's  such  a  thing  as  what  I  call 
right  between  man  and  man." 

"  Certainly  ;  and  law  is  an  invention  to  enforce  it.  It  is 
right  I  should  do  exactly  what  my  grandfather  agreed  to  do 
for  me,  five-and-twenty  years  ago,  in  relation  to  these  mills; 
and  it  is  right  you  should  do  what  you  agreed  to  do,  for 
yourself." 

"  I  have  done  so.  I  agreed  to  build  the  mills,  in  a  sartain 
form  and  mode,  and  I  done  it.  I  '11  defy  mortal  man  to  say 
otherwise.  The  saw-mill  was  smashing  away  at  the  logs 
within  two  months  a'ter  I  got  the  lease,  and  we  began  to 
grind  in  four !" 

"  No  doubt,  sir,  you  were  active  and  industrious — though 
to  be  frank  with  you,  I  will  say  that  competent  judges  tell 
me  neither  mill  is  worth  much  now." 

"  That 's  on  account  of  the  lease" — cried  Mr.  Newcome, 
a  little  too  hastily,  possibly,  for  the  credit  of  his  discretion — 
"  how  did  I  know  when  it  would  run  out.  Your  gran'ther 
granted  it  for  three  lives,  and  twenty-one  years  afterwards, 
and  I  did  all  a  man  could  to  make  it  last  as  long  as  I  should 
myself;  but,  here  I  am,  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  in  danger 
of  losing  my  property  !" 

I  knew  all  the  facts  of  the  case  perfectly,  and  had  intend 
ed  to  deal  liberally  with  Mr.  Newcome  from  the  first.  In 
his  greediness  for  gain  he  had  placed  his  lives  on  three  in 
fants,  although  my  grandfather  had  advised  him  to  place  at 
least  one  on  himself;  but,  no  —  Mr.  Newcome  had  fancied 
the  life  of  an  infant  better  than  that  of  a  man ;  and  in  three 
or  four  years  after  the  signature  of  the  lease,  his  twenty-one 
years  had  begun  to  run,  and  were  now  near  expiring.  Even 
under  this  certainly  unlooked-for  state  of  things,  the  lease 
had  been  a  very  advantageous  one  for  the  tenant ;  and,  had 


180  THE     CHAINBEARER, 

one  of  his  lives  lasted  a  century,  the  landlord  would  hare 
looked  in  vain  for  any  concession  on  that  account ;  land 
lords  never  asking  for,  or  expecting  favours  of  that  sort ; 
indeed  most  landlords  would  be  ashamed  to  receive  them ; 
nevertheless,  I  was  disposed  to  consider  the  circumstances, 
to  overlook  the  fact  that  the  mills  and  all  the  other  buildings 
on  the  property  were  indifferently  built,  and  to  re-let  for  an 
additional  term  of  twenty-one  years,  wood-lands,  farms, 
buildings  and  other  privileges,  for  about  one-third  of  the 
money  that  Mr.  Newcome  himself  would  have  been  apt  to 
ask,  had  he  the  letting  instead  of  myself.  Unwilling  to  pro 
long  a  discussion  with  a  man  who,  by  his  very  nature,  was 
unequal  to  seeing  more  than  one  side  of  a  subject,  I  cut  the 
matter  short,  by  telling  him  my  terms  without  further  delay. 

Notwithstanding  all  his  acting  and  false  feeling,  the 
'squire  was  so  rejoiced  to  learn  my  moderation,  that  he 
could  not  but  openly  express  his  feelings ;  a  thing  he  would 
not  have  done,  did  he  not  possess  the  moral  certainty  I 
would  not  depart  from  my  word.  I  felt  it  necessary,  how 
ever,  to  explain  myself. 

"Before  I  give  you  this  new  lease,  Mr.  Newcome,"  I 
added,  holding  the  instrument  signed  in  my  hand,  "  I  wish 
to  be  understood.  It  is  not  granted  under  the  notion  that 
you  have  any  right  to  ask  it,  beyond  the  allowance  that  is 
always  made  by  a  liberal  landlord  to  a  reasonably  good 
tenant ;  which  is  simply  a  preference  over  others  on  the 
same  terms.  As  for  the  early  loss  of  your  lives,  it  was 
your  own  fault.  Had  the  infants  you  named,  or  had  one 
of  them  passed  the  state  of  childhood,  it  might  have  lived  to 
be  eighty,  in  which  case  my  timber-land  would  have  been 
stripped  without  any  return  to  its  true  owner;  but,  your 
children  died,  and  the  lease  was  brought  within  reasonable 
limits.  Now,  the  only  inducement  I  have  for  offering  the 
terms  I  do,  is  the  liberality  that  is  usual  with  landlords , 
what  is  conceded  is  conceded  as  no  right,  but  as  an  act  of 
liberality." 

This  was  presenting  to  my  tenant  the  most  incompre 
hensible  of  all  reasons  for  doing  anything.  A  close  and 
sordid  calculator  himself,  he  was  not  accustomed  to  give 
any  man  credit  for  generosity ;  and,  from  the  doubting,  dis 
trustful  manner  in  which  he  received  the  paper,  I  suspected 


THE    CHAINBEAREK.  18$. 

at  the  moment  that  he  was  afraid  there  was  some  projec* 
for  taking  him  in.  A  rogue  is  always  distrustful,  and  a* 
often  betrays  his  character  to  honest  men  by  that  as  by  any 
other  failing.  I  was  not  to  regulate  my  own  conduct,  how 
ever,  by  the  weaknesses  of  Jason  Newcome,  and  the  lease 
was  granted. 

I  could  wish  here  to  make  one  remark.  There  ough\ 
certainly  to  be  the  same  principle  of  good  fellowship  exist 
ing  between  the  relations  of  landlord  and  tenant  that  exist 
m  the  other  relations  of  life,  and  which  creates  a  moral  tie 
between  parties  that  have  much  connection  in  their  ordinary 
interests,  and  that  to  a  degree  to  produce  preferences  and 
various  privileges  of  a  similar  character.  This  I  am  far 
from  calling  in  question  ;  and,  on  the  whole,  I  think  of  all 
that  class  of  relations,  the  one  in  question  is  to  be  set  down 
as  among  the  most  binding  and  sacred.  Still,  the  mere 
moral  rights  of  the  tenant  must  depend  on  the  rigid  mainte 
nance  of  all  the  rights  of  the  landlord  ;  the  legal  and  moral 
united ;  and  the  man  who  calls  in  question  either  of  the 
latter,  surely  violates  every  claim  to  have  his  own  preten 
sions  allowed,  beyond  those  which  the  strict  letter  of  the 
law  will  yield  to  him.  The  landlord  who  will  grant  a  new 
lease  to  the  individual  who  is  endeavouring  to  undermine 
his  rights,  by  either  direct  or  indirect  means,  commits  the 
weakness  of  arming  an  enemy  with  the  knife  by  which  he 
is  himself  to  be  assaulted,  in  addition  to  the  error  of  grant 
ing  power  to  a  man  who,  under  the  character  of  a  spurious 
liberty,  is  endeavouring  to  unsettle  the  only  conditions  on 
which  civilized  society  can  exist.  If  landlords  will  exhibit 
this  weakness,  they  must  blame  themselves  for  the  conse 
quences. 

I  got  rid  of  Mr.  Newcome  by  the  grant  of  the  lease,  his 
whole  manoeuvring  having  been  attempted  solely  to  lower 
the  rent ;  for  he  was  much  too  shrewd  to  believe  in  the  truth 
of  his  own  doctrines  on  the  subject  of  right  and  wrong. 
That  same  day  my  axe-men  appeared  at  the  'Nest,  having 
passed  the  intermediate  time  in  looking  at  various  tracts  of 
land  that  were  in  the  market,  and  which  they  had  not  found 
so  eligible,  in  the  way  of  situation,  quality,  or  terms,  as 
those  I  offered.  By  this  time,  the  surveyed  lots  of  Moose- 
ridge  were  ready,  and  I  offered  to  sell  them  to  these  emi- 
16 


182  THE    CHAINBEARBR. 

grants.  The  price  was  only  a  dollar  an  acre,  with  a  credit 
of  ten  years ;  the  interest  to  be  paid  annually.  One  would 
have  thought  that  the  lowness  of  the  price  would  have  in 
duced  men  to  prefer  lands  in  fee  to  lands  on  lease ;  but  these 
persons,  to  a  man,  found  it  more  to  their  interests  to  take 
farms  on  three-lives  leases,  being  rent-free  for  the  first  five 
years,  and  at  nominal  rents  for  the  remainder  of  the  term, 
than  to  pay  seven  dollars  a  year  of  interest,  and  a  hundred 
dollars  in  money,  at  the  expiration  of  the  credit.*  This  fact, 
of  itself,  goes  to  show  how  closely  these  men  calculated 
their  means,  and  the  effect  their  decisions  might  have  on 
their  interests.  Nor  were  their  decisions  always  wrong, 
Those  who  can  remember  the  start  the  country  took  shortly 
after  the  peace  of  '83,  the  prices  that  the  settlers  on  new 
lands  obtained  for  their  wheat,  ashes  and  pork ;  three  dol 
lars  a  bushel  often  for  the  first,  three-  hundred  dollars  a  ton 
for  the  second,  and  eight  or  ten  dollars  a  hundred  for  the 
last,  will  at  once  understand  that  the  occupant  of  new  lands 
at  that  period  obtained  enormous  wages  for  a  labourer  by 
means  of  the  rich  unexhausted  lands  he  was  thus  permitted 
to  occupy.  No  doubt  he  would  have  been  in  a  better  situa 
tion  had  he  owned  his  farm  in  fee  at  the  end  of  his  lease  ; 
so  would  the  merchant  who  builds  a  ship  and  clears  her  cost 
by  her  first  freight,  have  been  a  richer  man  had  he  cleared 
the  cost  of  two  ships  instead  of  one;  but  he  has  done  well,  not 
withstanding  ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  the  man  who 
commences  life  with  an  axe  and  a  little  household  furniture, 
is  in  the  situation  of  a  mere  day-labourer.  The  addition  to 
his  means  of  the  use  of  land  is  the  very  circumstance  that 
enables  him  to  rise  above  his  humble  position,  and  to  profit 

*  The  fact  here  stated  by  Mr.  Littlepage  should  never  be  forgotten ; 
inasmuch  as  it  colours  the  entire  nature  of  the  pretension  now  set  up 
as  to  the  exactions  of  leases.  No  man  in  New  York  need  ever  have 
leased  a  farm  for  the  want  of  an  opportunity  of  purchasing,  there 
never  having  been  a  time  when  land  for  farms  in  fee  has  not  been 
openly  on  sale  within  the  bounds  of  the  State ;  and  land  every  way 
as  eligible  as  that  leased.  In  few  cases  have  two  adjoining  estates 
been  leased;  and,  where  such  has  been  the  fact,  the  husbandman 
might  always  have  found  a  farm  in  fee,  at  the  cost  of  half  a  day's 
travelling.  The  benefits  to  the  landlord  have  usually  been  so  remote 
on  the  estate  leased,  that  by  far  the  greater  proportion  of  the  proprie. 
tors  have  preferred  selling  at  once,  to  waiting  for  the  tardy  operation* 
of  time.  —  EDITOR* 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  IBS 

by  the  cultivation  of  the  soil.  At  the  close  of  the  last  crn- 
tury,  and  at  the  commencement  of  the  present,  the  count  ry 
was  so  placed  as  to  render  every  stroke  of  the  axe  direc  ly 
profitable,  the  very  labour  that  was  expended  in  clearing 
away  the  trees  meeting  with  a  return  so  liberal  by  the  sale 
of  the  ashes  manufactured,  as  to  induce  even  speculators  to 
engage  in  the  occupation.  It  may  one  day  be  a  subject  of 
curiou§  inquiry  to  ascertain  how  so  much  was  done  as  is 
known  to  have  been  done  at  that  period,  towards  converting 
the  wilderness  into  a  garden ;  and  I  will  here  record,  for 
the  benefit  of  posterity,  a  brief  sketch  of  one  of  the  pro 
cesses  of  getting  to  be  comfortable,  if  not  rich,  that  was 
much  used  in  that  day. 

It  was  a  season's  work  for  a  skilful  axe-man  to  chop,  log, 
burn,  clear  and  sow  ten  acres  of  forest-land.  The  ashes  he 
manufactured.  For  the  heavier  portions  of  the  work,  s'ich 
as  the  logging,  he  called  on  his  neighbours  for  aid,  ren«  ier- 
ing  similar  assistance  by  way  of  payment.  One  yoke  of  o*en 
frequently  sufficed  for  two  or  three  farms,  and  "  logging-bees" 
have  given  rise  to  a  familiar  expression  among  us,  tha  t  is 
known  as  legislative  "  log-rolling ;"  a  process  by  which  as 
is  well  known,  one  set  of  members  supports  the  project  of 
another  set,  on  the  principle  of  reciprocity. 

Now,  ten  acres  of  land,  cropped  for  the  first  time,  might 
very  well  yield  a  hundred  and  fifty  bushels  of  merchantable 
wheat,  which  would  bring  three  hundred  dollars  in  the  Al 
bany  market.  They  would  also  make  a  ton  of  pot-ashes, 
which  would  sell  for  at  least  two  hundred  dollars.  Th's  is 
giving  five  hundred  dollars  for  a  single  year's  work.  Allow 
ing  for  all  the  drawbacks  of  building,  tools,  chains,  trans 
portation,  provisions,  &c.,  and  one-half  of  this  money  might 
very  fairly  be  set  down  as  clear  profit ;  very  large  ret*  irns 
to  one  who,  before  he  got  his  farm,  was  in  the  situatiou  of 
a  mere  day-labourer,  content  to  toil  for  eight  or  ten  dollars 
the  month. 

That  such  was  the  history,  in  its  outlines,  of  the  rise  of 
thousands  of  the  yeomen  who  now  dwell  in  New  York,  is 
undeniable ;  and  it  goes  to  show  that  if  the  settler  in  a  new 
country  has  to  encounter  toil  and  privations,  they  are  not 
always  without  their  quick  rewards.  In  these  later  times, 
men  go  on  the  open  prairies,  and  apply  the  plough  to  an 


184  THE    CHA1NB£ARER. 

ancient  sward ;  but  I  question  if  they  would  not  rather  en 
counter  the  virgin  forests  of  1790,  with  the  prices  of  that 
day,  that  run  over  the  present  park-like  fields,  in  order  to 
raise  wheat  for  37 £  cents  per  bushel,  have  no  ashes  at  any 
price,  and  sell  their  pork  at  two  dollars  the  hundred ! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  Intent  to  blend  her  with  his  lot, 
Fate  form'd  her  all  that  he  was  not ; 
And,  as  by  mere  unlikeness,  thought — 

Associate  we  see, 
Their  hearts,  from  very  difference,  caught 

A  perfect  sympathy." 

PlNCKNEY. 

ALL  this  time,  I  saw  Ursula  Malbone  daily,  and  at  all 
hours  of  the  day.  Inmates  of  the  same  dwelling,  we  met 
constantly,  and  many  were  the  interviews  and  conversations 
which  took  place  between  us.  Had  Dus  been  the  most 
finished  coquette  in  existence,  her  practised  ingenuity  could 
not  have  devised  more  happy  expedients  to  awaken  interest 
in  me  than  those  which  were  really  put  in  use  by  this  sin 
gular  girl,  without  the  slightest  intention  of  bringing  about 
any  such  result.  Indeed,  it  was  the  nature,  the  total  ab 
sence  of  art,  that  formed  one  of  the  brightest  attractions  of 
her  character,  and  gave  so  keen  a  zest  to  her  cleverness 
and  beauty.  In  that  day,  females,  while  busied  in  the  affairs 
of  their  household,  appeared  in  "  short-gown  and  petticoat," 
as  it  was  termed,  a  species  of  livery  that  even  ladies  often 
assumed  of  a  morning.  The  toilette  was  of  far  wider 
range  in  1784  than  it  is  now,  the  distinctions  between  morn 
ing  and  evening  dress  being  much  broader  then  than  at  pre 
sent.  As  soon  as  she  was  placed  really  at  the  head  of  her 
brother's  house,  Ursula  Malbone  set  about  the  duties  of  her 
new  station  quietly  and  without  the  slightest  fuss,  but  ac 
tively  and  with  interest.  She  seemed  to  me  to  possess,  in  a 
high,  degree,  that  particular  merit  of  carrying  on  the  details 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  185 

of  her  office  in  a  silent,  unobtrusive  manner,  while  they 
were  performed  most  effectually  and  entirely  to  the  comfort 
of  those  for  whose  benefit  her  care  was  exercised.  I  am  not 
one  of  those  domestic  canters  who  fancy  a  woman,  in  order 
to  make  a  good  wife,  needs  be  a  drudge  and  possess  the 
knowledge  of  a  cook  or  a  laundress ;  but  it  is  certainly  of 
great  importance  that  she  have  the  faculty  of  presiding 
over  her  /amily  with  intelligence,  and  an  attention  that  is 
suited  to  her  means  of  expenditure.  Most  of  all  is  it  im 
portant  that  she  knows  how  to  govern  without  being  seen 
or  heard. 

The  wife  of  an  educated  man  should  be  an  educated  wo 
man  ;  one  fit  to  be  his  associate,  qualified  to  mingle  her 
tastes  with  his  own,  to  exchange  ideas,  and  otherwise  to  be 
his  companion,  in  an  intellectual  sense.  These  are  the 
higher  requisites ;  a  gentleman  accepting  the  minor  qualifi 
cations  as  so  many  extra  advantages,  if  kept  within  their 
proper  limits  ;  but  as  positive  disadvantages  if  they  interfere 
with,  or  in  any  manner  mar  the  manners,  temper,  or  mental 
improvement  of  the  woman  whom  he  has  chosen  as  his  wife, 
and  not  as  his  domestic.  Some  sacrifices  may  be  necessary 
in  those  cases  in  which  cultivation  exists  without  a  sufficiency 
of  means ;  but,  even  then,  it  is  seldom  indeed  that  a  woman 
of  the  proper  qualities  may  not  be  prevented  from  sinking 
to  the  level  of  a  menial.  As  for  the  cant  of  the  newspapers 
on  such  subjects,  it  usually  comes  from  those  whose  homes 
are  merely  places  for  "  board  and  lodging." 

The  address  with  which  Dus  discharged  all  the  functions 
of  her  new  station,  while  she  avoided  those  that  were  un 
seemly  and  out  of  place,  charmed  me  almost  as  much  as 
her  spirit,  character  and  beauty.  The  negroes  removed  all 
necessity  for  her  descending  to  absolute  toil ;  and  with  what 
pretty,  feminine  dexterity  did  she  perform  the  duties  that 
properly  belonged  to  her  station !  Always  cheerful,  fre 
quently  singing,  not  in  a  noisy  milk-maid  mood,  but  at 
those  moments  when  she  might  fancy  herself  unheard,  and 
in  sweet,  plaintive  songs  that  seemed  to  recall  the  scenes  of 
other  days.  Always  cheerful,  however,  is  saying  a  little 
too  much  ;  for,  occasionally,  Dus  was  sad.  I  found  her  in 
tears  three  or  four  times,  but  did  not  dare  inquire  into  their 
cause.  There  was  scarce  time,  indeed ;  for,  the  instant 
16* 


186  THE     CHAIN  BE  A  HER. 

I  appeared,  she   dried   her  eyes,  and   received   me  with 
smiles. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  to  me  the  time  passed 
pleasantly,  and  amazingly  fast.  Chain  bearer  remained  at 
the  Nest  by  my  orders,  for  he  would  not  yield  to  requests ; 
and  I  do  not  remember  a  more  delightful  month  than  that 
proved  to  be.  I  made«.  very  general  acquaintance  with  my 
tenants,  and  found  many  of  them  as  straight-forward,  honest, 
hard-working  yeomen,  as  one  could  wish  to  meet.  My  bro 
ther  major,  in  particular,  was  a  hearty  old  fellow,  and  often 
came  to  see  me,  living  on  the  farm  that  adjoined  my  own. 
He  growled  a  little  about  the  sect  that  had  got  possession  of 
the  new  *  meetin'-us,"  but  did  it  in  a  way  to  show  there  was 
not  much  gall  in  his  own  temperament. 

"  I  don't  rightly  understand  these  majority-matters,"  said 
the  old  fellow,  one  day  that  we  were  talking  the  matter  over, 
"  though  I  very  well  know  Newcome  always  manages  to 
get  one,  let  the  folks  think  as  they  will.  I  've  known  the 
'squire  contrive  to  cut  a  majority  out  of  about  a  fourth  of 
all  present,  and  he  does  it  in  a  way  that  is  desp'ret  ingen'ous, 
t  will  allow,  though  I  'm  afeard  it 's  neither  law  nor  gospel." 

"  He  certainly  managed,  in  the  affair  of  the  denomination, 
to  make  a  plurality  of  one  appear  in  the  end  to  be  a  very 
handsome  majority  over  all !" 

"  Ay,  there 's  twists  and  turns  in  these  things,  that 's  be 
yond  my  1'arnin',  though  I  s'pose  all 's  right.  It  don't  mat 
ter  much  in  the  long  run,  a'ter  all,  where  a  man  worships, 
provided  he  worships ;  or  who  preaches,  so  that  he  listens." 

I  think  this  liberality — if  that  be  the  proper  word — in  reli 
gious  matters,  is  fast  increasing  among  us;  though  liberality 
may  be  but  another  term  for  indifference.  As  for  us  Episco 
palians,  I  wonder  there  are  any  left  in  the  country,  though 
we  are  largely  on  the  increase.  There  we  were,  a  church 
that  insisted  on  Episcopal  ministrations— on  confirmation  in 
particular — left  for  a  century  without  a  bishop,  and  unable 
to  conform  to  practices  that  it  was  insisted  on  were  essential 
and  this  solely  because  it  did  not  suit  the  policy  of  the  mo 
ther-country  to  grant  us  prelates  of  our  own,  or  to  send  us, 
occasionally  even,  one  of  her's  !  How  miserable  do  human 
expedients  often  appear  when  they  are  tried  by  the  tests  of 
common  sense !  A  church  of  God,  insisting  on  certain  spi- 


THE    CH  A.INBEAHBR.  18? 

ritual  essentials  that  it  denies  to  a  portion  of  its  people,  in 
order  to  conciliate  worldly  interests !  It  is  not  the  church 
of  England  alone,  however,  nor  the  government  of  England, 
that  is  justly  obnoxious  to  such  an  accusation ;  something 
equally  bad  and  just  as  inconsistent,  attaching  itself  to  the 
ecclesiastical  influence  of  every  other  system  in  Christendom 
under  which  the  state  is  tied  to  religion  by  means  of  human 
provisions.  The  mistake  is  in  connecting  the  things  of  the 
world  with  the  things  that  are  of  God. 

Alas ! — alas !  When  you  sever  that  pernicious  tie,  is  the 
matter  much  benefited  ?  How  is  it  among  ourselves  ?  Are 
not  sects,  and  shades  of  sects,  springing  up  among  us  on 
every  side,  until  the  struggle  between  parsons  is  getting  to 
be  not  who  shall  aid  in  making  most  Christians,  but  who 
shall  gather  into  his  fold  most  sectarians?  As  for  the  people 
themselves,  instead  of  regarding  churches,  even  after  they 
have  established  them,  and  that  too  very  much  on  their  own 
authority,  they  first  consider  their  own  tastes,  enmities  and 
predilections,  respecting  the  priest  far  more  than  the  altar, 
and  set  themselves  up  as  a  sort  of  religious  constituencies, 
who  are  to  be  represented  directly  in  the  government  of 
Christ's  followers  on  earth.  Half  of  a  parish  will  fly  off*  in  a 
passion  to  another  denomination  if  they  happen  to  fall  into 
a  minority.  Truly,  a  large  portion  of  our  people  is  begin 
ning  to  act  in  this  matter,  as  if  they  had  a  sense  of  "  giving 
their  support"  to  the  Deity,  patronising  him  in  this  temple 
or  the  other,  as  may  suit  the  feeling  or  the  interest  of  the 
moment.* 

But,  I  am  not  writing  homilies,  and  will  return  to  tho 
Nest  and  my  friends.  A  day  or  two  after  Mr.  Newcomo 
received  his  new  lease,  Chainbearer,  Frank,  Dus  and  I  were 
in  the  little  arbour  that  overlooked  the  meadows,  when  wc5 
saw  Sureflint,  moving  at  an  Indian's  pace,  along  a  path  that 
came  out  of  the  forest,  and  which  was  known  to  lead  to  • 

[*  If  Mr.  Littlepage  wrote  thus,  thirty  or  forty  years  since,  how 
would  he  have  written  to-day,  when  we  have  had  loud  protestations 
flourishing  around  us  in  the  public  journals,  that  this  or  that  sectarian 
polity  was  most  in  unison  with  a  republican  form  of  government 
What  renders  this  assumption  as  absurd  as  it  is  presuming,  is  the 
well-known  fact  that  it  comes  from  those  who  have  ever  been  loudest 
in  their  declamations  of  a  union  between  church  and  state !] 


1S8  THE    CHAINBBARBR. 

wards  Mooseridge.  The  Onondago  carried  his  rifle  as  usual 
and  bore  on  his  back  a  large  bunch  of  something  that  we 
supposed  to  be  game,  though  the  distance  prevented  our  dis 
cerning  its  precise  character.  In  half  a  minute  he  disap 
peared  behind  a  projection  of  the  cliffs,  trotting  towards  the 
buildings. 

"  My  friend,  the  Trackless,  has  been  absent  from  us  now 
a  longer  time  than  usual,"  Ursula  remarked,  as  she  turned 
her  head  from  following  the  Indian's  movements,  as  long  as 
he  remained  in  sight ;  "  but  he  re-appears  loaded  with  some 
thing  for  our  benefit." 

"  He  has  passed  most  of  his  time  of  late  with  your  uncle, 
I  believe,"  I  answered,  following  Dus's  fine  eyes  with  my 
own,  the  pleasantest  pursuit  I  could  discover  in  that  remote 
quarter  of  the  world.  "  I  have  written  this  to  my  father, 
who  will  be  glad  to  hear  tidings  of  his  old  friend." 

"  He  is  much  with  my  uncle,  as  you  say,  being  greatly 
attached  to  him.  Ah  !  here  he  comes,  with  such  a  load  on 
his  shoulders  as  an  Indian  does  not  love  to  bear ;  though 
even  a  chief  will  condescend  to  carry  game." 

As  Dus  ceased  speaking,  Sureflint  threw  a  large  bunch 
of  pigeons,  some  two  or  three  dozen  birds,  at  her  feet,  turn 
ing  away  quietly,  like  one  who  had  done  his  part  of  the 
work,  and  who  left  the  remainder  to  be  managed  by  the 
squaws. 

"  Thank  you,  Trackless,"  said  the  pretty  housekeeper  — 
"  thank'ee  kindly.  These  are  beautiful  birds,  and  as  fat  as 
butter.  We  shall  have  them  cleaned,  and  cooked  in  all 
manner  of  ways." 

"All  squab — just  go  to  fly  —  take  him  ebbery  one  in 
nest,"  answered  the  Indian. 

"  Nests  must  be  plenty,  then,  and  I  should  like  to  visit 
them,"  I  cried,  remembering  to  have  heard  strange  marvels 
of  the  multitudes  of  pigeons  that  were  frequently  found  in 
their  *  roosts,'  as  the  encampments  they  made  in  the  woods 
were  often  termed  in  the  parlance  of  the  country.  "  Can 
we  not  go  in  a  body  and  visit  this  roost?" 

"  It  might  pe  tone,"  answered  the  Chainbearer ;  "  it  might 
pe  tone,  and  it  is  time  we  wast  moving  in  t'eir  tirection,  if 
more  lant  is  to  pe  surveyet,  ant  t'ese  pirts  came  from  t'e 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  189 

hill  I  suppose  t'ey  do.  Mooseridge  promiset  to  have  plenty 
of  pigeons  t'is  season." 

"  Just  so" — answered  Sureflint.  "  Million,  t'ousan',  hun 
dred — more  too.  Nebber  see  more ;  nebber  see  so  many. 
Great  Spirit  don't  forget  poor  Injin ;  sometime  give  him 
deer  —  sometime  salmon  —  sometime  pigeon  —  plenty  for 
ebbery  body ;  only  t'ink  so." 

"  Ay,  Sureflint ;  only  t'ink  so,  inteet,  and  t'ere  is  enough 
for  us  all,  and  plenty  to  spare.  Got  is  pountiful  to  us,  put 
we  ton't  often  know  how  to  use  his  pounty,"  answered 
Chainbearer,  who  had  been  examining  the  birds  —  "Finer 
squaps  arn't  often  met  wit' ;  and  I  too  shoult  like  amazingly 
to  see  one  more  roost,  pefore  I  go  to  roost  myself." 

"  As  for  the  visit  to  the  roost,"  cried  I,  "  that  is  settled  for 
to-morrow.  But  a  man  who  has  just  come  out  of  a  war  like 
the  last,  into  peaceable  times,  has  no  occasion  to  speak  of 
his  end,  Chainbearer.  You  are  old  in  years,  but  young  in 
mind,  as  well  as  body." 

"  Bot'  nearly  wore  out — bot'  nearly  wore  out !  It  is  well 
to  tell  an  olt  fool  t'e  contrary,  put  I  know  petter.  T'ree 
score  and  ten  is  man's  time,  and  I  haf  fillet  up  t'e  numper 
of  my  tays.  Got  knows  pest,  when  it  wilt  pe  his  own  plea 
sure  to  call  me  away ;  put,  let  it  come  when  it  will,  I  shall 
now  tie  happy,  comparet  wit'  what  I  shoult  haf  tone  a  mont' 
»go." 

"  You  surprise  me,  my  dear  friend  !  What  has  happened 
to  make  this  difference  in  your  feelings  1 — It  cannot  be  that 
you  are  changed  in  any  essential !" 

"  T'e  tifference  is  in  Dus's  prospects.  Now  Frank  has  a 
goot  place,  my  gal  will  not  pe  forsaken." 

"  Forsaken !  Dus  —  Ursula  —  Miss  Malbone  forsaken ! 
That  could  never  happen,  Andries,  Frank  or  no  Frank." 

"  I  hope  not — I  hope  not,  lat — put  t'e  gal  pegins  to  weep, 
and  we  '11  talk  no  more  apout  it.  Harkee,  Susquesus ;  my 
olt  frient,  can  you  guile  us  to  t'is  roost  ?" 

"  Why  no  do  it,  eh  ?  —  Path  wide  —  open  whole  way. 
Plain  as  river." 

"  Well,  t'en,  we  wilt  all  pe  off  for  t'e  place  in  t'e  mornin'. 
My  new  assistant  is  near,  and  it  is  high  time  Frank  and  I 
hat  gone  into  t'o  woots  ag'in." 


190  THE     CHAINBEARER 

I  heard  this  arrangement  made,  though  my  eyes  were 
following  Dus,  who  had  started  from  her  seat,  and  rushed 
into  the  house,  endeavouring  to  hide  emotions  that  were 
not  to  be  hushed.  A  minute  later  I  saw  her  at  the  window 
of  her  own  room,  smiling,  though  the  cloud  had  not  yet  en 
tirely  dispersed. 

Next  morning  early  our  whole  party  left  the  Nest  for  the 
hut  at  Mooseridge,  and  the  pigeon-roosts.  Dus  and  the 
black  female  servant  travelled  on  horseback,  there  being  no 
want  of  cattle  at  the  Nest,  where,  as  I  now  learned,  my 
grandfather  had  left  a  quarter  of  a  century  before,  among  a 
variety  of  other  articles,  several  side-saddles.  The  rest  of 
us  proceeded  on  foot,  though  we  had  no  less  than  three 
sumpter  beasts  to  carry  our  food,  instruments,  clothes,  &c. 
Each  man  was  armed,  almost  as  a  matter  of  course  in  that 
day,  though  I  carried  a  double-barrelled  fowling-piece  my 
self,  instead  of  a  rifle.  Susquesus  acted  as  our  guide. 

We  were  quite  an  hour  before  we  reached  the  limits  of 
the  settled  farms  on  my  own  property ;  after  which,  we  en 
tered  the  virgin  forest.  In  consequence  of  the  late  war, 
which  had  brought  everything  like  the  settlement  of  the 
country  to  a  dead  stand,  a  new  district  had  then  little  of  the 
straggling,  suburb-like  clearings,  which  are  apt  now  to  en 
circle  the  older  portions  of  a  region  that  is  in  the  state  of 
transition.  On  the  contrary,  the  last  well-fenced  and  reason 
ably  well-cultivated  farm  passed,  we  plunged  into  the  bound 
less  woods,  and  took  a  complete  leave  of  nearly  every  vestige 
of  civilized  life,  as  one  enters  the  fields  on  quitting  a  town 
in  France.  There  was  a  path,  it  is  true,  following  the  line 
of  blazed  trees ;  but  it  was  scarcely  beaten,  and  was  almost 
as  illegible  as  a  bad  hand.  Still,  one  accustomed  to  the 
forest  had  little  difficulty  in  following  it;  and  Susquesus 
would  have  had  none  in  finding  his  way,  had  there  been  no 
path  at  all.  As  for  the  Chainbearer,  he  moved  forward  too, 
with  the  utmost  precision  and  confidence,  the  habit  of  run 
ning  straight  lines  amid  trees  having  given  his  eye  an  accu 
racy  that  almost  equalled  the  species  of  instinct  that  was 
manifested  by  the  Trackless  himself,  on  such  subjects. 

This  was  a  pleasant  little  journey,  the  depths  of  the  forest 
rendering  the  heats  of  the  season  as  agreeable  as  was  possi 
ble.  We  were  four  hours  in  reaching  the  foot  of  the  little 


THE    CHAINBEARER  191 

mountain  on  which  the  birds  had  built  their  nests,  where  we 
halted  to  take  some  refreshments. 

Little  time  is  lost  at  meals  in  the  forest,  and  we  were  soon 
ready  to  ascend  the  hill.  The  horses  were  left  with  the 
blacks,  Dus  accompanying  us  on  foot.  As  we  left  the  spring 
where  we  had  halted,  I  offered  her  an  arm  to  aid  in  the 
ascent;  but  she  declined  it,  apparently  much  amused  that  it 
should  have  been  offered. 

"  What  I,  a  chainbearess !"  she  cried,  laughing — "I,  who 
have  fairly  wearied  out  Frank,  and  even  made  my  uncle  feel 
tired,  though  he  would  never  own  it  —  I  accept  an  arm  to 
help  me  up  a  hill !  You  forget,  major  Littlepage,  that  the 
first  ten  years  of  my  life  were  passed  in  a  forest,  and  that  a 
year's  practice  has  brought  back  all  my  old  habits,  and 
made  me  a  girl  of  the  woods  again." 

"  I  scarce  know  what  to  make  of  you,  for  you  seem  fitted 
for  any  situation  in  which  you  may  happen  to  be  thrown," 
I  answered,  profiting  by  the  circumstance  that  we  were  out 
of  the  hearing  of  our  companions,  who  had  all  moved  ahead, 
to  utter  more  than  I  otherwise  might  venture  to  say  —  "  at 
one  time  I  fancy  you  the  daughter  of  one  of  my  own  tenants  ; 
at  another,  the  heiress  of  some  ancient  patroon." 

Dus  laughed  again ;  then  she  blushed ;  and,  for  the  re 
mainder  of  the  short  ascent,  she  remained  silent.  Short  the 
ascent  was,  and  we  were  soon  on  the  summit  of  the  hill. 
So  far  from  needing  my  assistance,  Dus  actually  left  me 
behind,  exerting  herself  in  a  way  that  brought  her  up  at  the 
side  of  the  Trackless,  who  led  our  van.  Whether  this  was 
done  in  order  to  prove  how  completely  she  was  a  forest  girl, 
or  whether  my  words  had  aroused  those  feelings  that  are 
apt  to  render  a  female  impulsive,  is  more  than  I  can  say 
even  now ;  though  I  suspected  at  the  time  that  the  latter 
sensations  had  quite  as  much  to  do  with  this  extraordinary 
activity  as  the  former.  I  was  not  far  behind,  however,  and 
when  our  party  came  fairly  upon  the  roost,  the  Trackless, 
Dus  and  myself,  were  all  close  together. 

I  scarce  know  how  to  describe  that  remarkable  scene. 
As  we  drew  near  to  the  summit  of  the  hill,  pigeons  began  to 
be  seen  fluttering  among  the  branches  over  our  heads,  as 
individuals  are  met  along  the  roads  that  lead  into  the  suburbs 
of  a  large  town.  We  had  probably  seen  a  thousand  birds 


192  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

glancing  around  among  the  trees,  before  we  came  in  view 
of  the  roost  itself.  The  numbers  increased  as  we  drew 
nearer,  and  presently  the  forest  was  alive  with  them.  The 
fluttering  was  incessant,  and  often  startling  as  we  passed 
ahead,  our  march  producing  a  movement  in  the  living  crowd, 
that  really  became  confounding.  Every  tree  was  literally 
covered  with  nests,  many  having  at  least  a  thousand  of 
these  frail  tenements  on  their  branches,  and  shaded  by  the 
leaves.  They  often  touched  each  other,  a  wonderful  degree 
of  order  prevailing  among  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
families  that  were  here  assembled.  The  place  had  the  odour 
of  a  fowl-house,  and  squabs  just  fledged  sufficiently  to  trust 
themselves  in  short  flights,  were  fluttering  around  us  in  all 
directions,  in  tens  of  thousands.  To  these  were  to  be  added 
the  parents  of  the  young  race  endeavouring  to  protect  them, 
and  guide  them  in  a  way  to  escape  harm.  Although  the 
birds  rose  as  we  approached,  and  the  woods  just  around  us 
seemed  fairly  alive  with  pigeons,  our  presence  produced  no 
general  commotion ;  every  one  of  the  feathered  throng  ap 
pearing  to  be  so  much  occupied  with  its  own  concerns,  as 
to  take  little  heed  of  the  visit  of  a  party  of  strangers,  though 
of  a  race  usually  so  formidable  to  their  own.  The  masses 
moved  before  us  precisely  .as  a  crowd  of  human  beings  yields 
to  a  pressure  or  a  danger  on  any  given  point ;  the  vacuum 
created  by  its  passage  filling  in  its  rear,  as  the  water  of  the 
ocean  flows  into  the  track  of  the  keel. 

The  effect  on  most  of  us  was  confounding,  and  I  can  only 
compare  the  sensation  produced  on  myself  by  the  extraor 
dinary  tumult  to  that  a  man  experiences  at  finding  himself 
suddenly  placed  in  the  midst  of  an  excited  throng  of  human 
beings.  The  unnatural  disregard  of  our  persons  manifested 
by  the  birds  greatly  heightened  the  effect,  and  caused  me  to 
feel  as  if  some  unearthly  influence  reigned  in  the  place.  It 
was  strange,  indeed,  to  be  in  a  mob  of  the  feathered  race, 
that  scarce  exhibited  a  consciousness  of  one's  presence.  The 
pigeons  seemed  a  world  of  themselves,  and  too  much  occu 
pied  with  their  own  concerns  to  take  heed  of  matters  that 
lay  beyond  them. 

Not  one  of  our  party  spoke  for  several  minutes.  Astonish 
ment  seemed  to  hold  us  all  tongue-tied,  and  we  moved  slowly 
forward  into  the  fluttering  throng,  silent,  absorbed,  and  full 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  193 

of  admiration  of  the  works  of  the  Creator.  It  was  not  easy 
to  hear  each  other's  voices  when  we  did  speak,  the  incessant 
fluttering  of  wings  filling  the  air.  Nor  were  the  birds  silent 
in  other  respects.  The  pigeon  is  not  a  noisy  creature,  but 
a  million  crowded  together  on  the  summit  of  one  hill,  occu 
pying  a  space  of  less  than  a  mile  square,  did  not  leave  the 
forest  in  its  ordinary  impressive  stillness.  As  we  advanced, 
I  offered  my  arm,  almost  unconsciously,  again  to  Dus,  and 
she  took  it  with  the  same  abstracted  manner  as  that  in  which 
it  had  been  held  forth  for  her  acceptance.  In  this  relation  to 
each  other,  we  continued  to  follow  the  grave-looking  Onon- 
dago,  as  he  moved,  still  deeper  and  deeper,  into  the  midst 
of  the  fluttering  tumult. 

At  this  instant  there  occurred  an  interruption  that,  I  am 
ready  enough  to  confess,  caused  the  blood  to  rush  towards 
my  own  heart  in  a  flood.  As  for  Dus,  she  clung  to  me,  as 
woman  will  cling  to  man,  when  he  possesses  her  confidence, 
and  she  feels  that  she  is  insufficient  for  her  own  support. 
Both  hands  were  on  my  arm,  and  I  felt,  that,  unconsciously, 
her  form  was  pressing  closer  to  mine,  in  a  manner  she 
would  have  carefully  avoided  in  a  moment  of  perfect  self- 
possession.  Nevertheless,  I  cannot  say  that  Dus  was  afraid. 
Her  colour  was  heightened,  her  charming  eyes  were  filled 
with  a  wonder  that  was  not  unmixed  with  curiosity,  but 
her  air  was  spirited  in  spite  of  a  scene  that  might  try 
the  nerves  of  the  boldest  man.  Sureflint  and  Chainbearer 
were  alone  totally  unmoved ;  for  they  had  been  at  pigeon's 
roosts  before,  and  knew  what  to  expect.  To  them  the  won 
ders  of  the  woods  were  no  longer  novel.  Each  stood  leaning 
on  his  rifle,  and  smiling  at  our  evident  astonishment.  I  am 
wrong ;  the  Indian  did  not  even  smile ;  for  that  would  have 
been  an  unusual  indication  of  feeling  for  him  to  manifest  ; 
but  he  did  betray  a  sort  of  covert  consciousness  that  the 
scene  must  be  astounding  to  us.  But,  I  will  endeavour  to 
explain  what  it  was  that  so  largely  increased  the  first  effect 
of  our  visit. 

While  standing  wondering  at  the  extraordinary  scene 
around  us,  a  noise  was  heard  rising  above  that  of  the  in 
cessant  fluttering,  which  I  can  only  liken  to  that  of  the 
trampling  of  thousands  of  horses  on  a  beaten  road.  This 
17 


194  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

noise  at  first  sounded  distant,  but  it  increased  rapidly  in 
proximity  and  power,  until  it  came  rolling  in  upon  us, 
among  the  tree-tops,  like  a  crash  of  thunder.  The  air  was 
suddenly  darkened,  and  the  place  where  we  stood  as  sombre 
as  a  dusky  twilight.  At  the  same  instant,  all  the  pigeons 
near  us,  that  had  been  on  their  nests,  appeared  to  fall  out 
of  them,  and  the  space  immediately  above  our  heads  was 
at  once  filled  with  birds.  Chaos  itself  could  hardly  have 
represented  greater  confusion,  or  a  greater  uproar.  As  for 
the  birds,  they  now  seemed  to  disregard  our  presence  en 
tirely  ;  possibly  they  could  not  see  us  on  account  of  their 
own  numbers ;  for  they  fluttered  in  between  Dus  and  my 
self,  hitting  us  with  their  wings,  and  at  times  appearing  as 
if  about  to  bury  us  in  avalanches  of  pigeons.  Each  of  us 
caught  one  at  least  in  our  hands,  while  Chainbearer  and  the 
Indian  took  them  in  some  numbers,  letting  one  prisoner  go 
as  another  was  taken.  In  a  word,  we  seemed  to  be  in  a 
world  of  pigeons.  This  part  of  the  scene  may  have  lasted 
a  minute,  when  the  space  around  us  was  suddenly  cleared, 
the  birds  glancing  upwards  among  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
disappearing  among  the  foliage.  All  this  was  the  effect  pro 
duced  by  the  return  of  the  female  birds,  which  had  been  off 
at  a  distance,  some  twenty  miles  at  least,  to  feed  on  beech 
nuts,  and  which  now  assumed  the  places  of  the  males  on 
the  nests ;  the  latter  taking  a  flight  to  get  their  meal  in  their 
turn. 

I  have  since  had  the  curiosity  to  make  a  sort  of  an  esti 
mate  of  the  number  of  the  birds  that  must  have  come  in 
upon  the  roost,  in  that,  to  us,  memorable  minute.  Such  a 
calculation,  as  a  matter  of  course,  must  be  very  vague, 
though  one  may  get  certain  principles  by  estimating  the  size 
of  a  flock  by  the  known  rapidity  of  the  flight,  and  other 
similar  means ;  and  I  remember  that  Frank  Malbone  and 
myself  supposed  that  a  million  of  birds  must  have  come  in 
on  that  return,  and  as  many  departed !  As  the  pigeon  is  a 
very  voracious  bird,  the  question  is  apt  to  present  itself, 
where  food  is  obtained  for  so  many  mouths ;  but,  when  we 
remember  the  vast  extent  of  the  American  forests,  this  diffi 
culty  is  at  once  met.  Admitting  that  the  colony  we  visited 
contained  many  millions  of  birds,  and,  counting  old  and 
young,  I  have  no  doubt  it  did,  there  was  probably  a  fruit- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  195 

bearing  tree  for  each,  within  an  hour's  flight  from  that  very 
'spot! 

Such  is  the  scale  on  which  nature  labours  in  the  wilder 
ness  !  I  have  seen  insects  fluttering  in  the  air  at  particular 
seasons,  and  at  particular  places,  until  they  formed  little 
clouds ;  a  sight  every  one  must  have  witnessed  on  many 
occasions ;  and  as  those  insects  appeared,  on  their  diminish 
ed  scale,  so  did  the  pigeons  appear  to  us  at  the  roost  of 
Mooseridge.  We  passed  an  hour  in  the  town  of  the  birds, 
finding  our  tongues  and  our  other  faculties  as  we  became 
accustomed  to  our  situation.  In  a  short  time,  even  Dus 
grew  as  composed  as  at  all  comported  with  the  excitement 
natural  to  one  in  such  a  place ;  and  we  studied  the  habits 
of  the  pretty  animals  with  a  zest  that  I  found  so  much  the 
greater  for  studying  them  in  her  company.  At  the  end  of 
the  hour  we  left  the  hill,  our  departure  producing  no  more 
sensation  in  that  countless  tribe  of  pigeons  than  our  arrival. 

"  It  is  a  proof  that  numbers  can  change  our  natures," 
said  Dus,  as  we  descended  the  little  mountain.  "  Here  have 
we  been  almost  in  contact  with  pigeons  which  would  not 
have  suffered  us  to  come  within  a  hundred  feet  of  them  had 
they  been  in  ordinary  flocks,  or  as  single  birds.  Is  it  that 
numbers  give  them  courage?" 

"  Confidence,  rather.  It  is  just  so  with  men ;  who  will 
exhibit  an  indifference  in  crowds  that  they  rarely  possess 
when  alone.  The  sights,  interruptions,  and  even  dangers 
that  will  draw  all  our  attention  when  with  a  few,  often  seem 
indifferent  to  us  when  in  the  tumult  of  a  throng  of  fellow- 
creatures." 

"  What  is  meant  by  a  panic  in  an  army,  then?" 

"  It  is  following  the  same  law,  making  man  subject  to 
the  impulses  of  those  around  him.  If  the  impulse  be  on 
ward,  onward  we  go ;  if  for  retreat,  we  run  like  sheep.  If 
occupied  with  ourselves  as  a  body,  we  disregard  trifling  in 
terruptions,  as  these  pigeons  have  just  done  in  our  own  case. 
Large  bodies  of  animals,  whether  human  or  not,  seem  to 
become  subject  to  certain  general  laws  that  increase  the 
power  of  the  whole  over  the  acts  and  feelings  of  any  one  or 
any  few  of  their  number." 

"  According  to  that  rule,  our  new  republican  form  of  go 
vernment  ought  to  be  a  very  strong  one ;  though  I  have 


196  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

heard  many  express  their  fears  it  will  be  no  government 
at  all." 

"  Unless  a  miracle  be  wrought  in  our  behalf,  it  will  be 
the  strongest  government  in  the  world  for  certain  purposes, 
and  the  weakest  for  others.  It  professes  a  principle  of  self- 
preservation  that  is  not  enjoyed  by  other  systems,  since  the 
people  must  revolt  against  themselves  to  overturn  it ;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  will  want  the  active,  living  principle 
of  steady,  consistent  justice,  since  there  will  be  no  indepen 
dent  power  whose  duty  and  whose  interest  it  will  be  to  see 
it  administered.  The  wisest  man  I  ever  knew  has  prophe 
sied  to  me  that  this  is  the  point  on  which  our  system  will 
break  down ;  rendering  the  character,  the  person  and  the 
property  of  the  citizen  insecure,  and  consequently  the  insti 
tutions  odious  to  those  who  once  have  loved  them." 

"  I  trust  there  is  no  danger  of  that !"  said  Dus,  quickly. 

"  There  is  danger  from  everything  that  man  controls. 
We  have  those  among  us  who  preach  the  possible  perfection 
of  the  human  race,  maintaining  the  gross  delusion  that  men 
are  what  they  are  known  to  be,  merely  because  they  have 
been  ill-governed ;  and  a  more  dangerous  theory,  in  my 
poor  judgment,  cannot  be  broached." 

"  You  think,  then,  that  the  theory  is  false  ?" 

"  Beyond  a  question — governments  are  oftener  spoiled  by 
men  than  men  by  governments ;  though  the  last  certainly 
have  a  marked  influence  on  character.  The  best  govern 
ment  of  which  we  know  anything,  is  that  of  the  universe ; 
and  it  is  so,  merely  because  it  proceeds  from  a  single  will, 
that  will  being  without  blemish." 

"  Your  despotic  governments  are  said  to  be  the  very  worst 
in  the  world." 

"  They  are  good  or  bad  as  they  happen  to  be  administer 
ed.  The  necessity  of 'maintaining  such  governments  by 
force  renders  them  often  oppressive ;  but  a  government  of 
numbers  may  become  even  more  despotic  than  that  of  an 
individual ;  since  the  people  will,  in  some  mode  or  other, 
always  sustain  the  oppressed  as  against  the  despot,  but 
rarely,  or  never,  as  against  themselves.  You  saw  that  those 
pigeons  lost  their  instinct,  under  the  impulse  given  by  num 
bers.  God  for  ever  protect  me  against  the  tyranny  of  num- 
»ergl" 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  197 

"  But  everybody  says  our  system  is  admirable,  and  the 
best  in  the  world ;  and  even  a  despot's  government  is  the 
government  of  a  man." 

"  It  is  one  of  the  effects  of  numbers  that  men  shrink  from 
speaking  the  truth,  when  they  find  themselves  opposed  to 
large  majorities.  As  respects  self-rule,  the  colonies  were 
ever  freer  than  the  mother  country ;  and  we  are,  as  yet, 
merely  pursuing  our  ancient  practices,  substituting  allegiance 
to  the  confederation  for  allegiance  to  the  king.  The  differ 
ence  is  not  sufficiently  material  to  produce  early  changes. 
We  are  to  wait  until  that  which  there  is  of  new  principles  in 
our  present  system  shall  have  time  to  work  radical  changes, 
when  we  shall  begin  to  ascertain  how  much  better  we  really 
are  than  our  neighbours."* 

Dus  and  I  continued  to  converse  on  this  subject  until  she 
got  again  into  the  saddle.  I  was  delighted  with  her  good 
sense  and  intelligence,  which  were  made  apparent  more  in 
the  pertinacity  of  her  questions  than  by  any  positive  know 
ledge  she  had  on  such  subjects,  which  usually  have  very 
few  attractions  for  young  women.  Nevertheless,  Dus  had 
an  activity  of  mind  and  a  readiness  of  perception  that  sup 
plied  many  of  the  deficiencies  of  education  on  these  points  ; 
and  I  do  not  remember  to  have  ever  been  engaged  in  a  poli 
tical  discussion  from  which  I  derived  so  much  satisfaction. 
I  must  own,  however,  it  is  possible  that  the  golden  hair 
flying  about  a  face  that  was  just  as  ruddy  as  comported 

*  At  the  time  of  which  Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage  is  here  speaking1, 
it  was  far  less  the  fashion  to  extol  the  institutions  than  it  is  to-day. 
Men  then  openly  wrote  and  spoke  against  them,  while  few  dare,  at 
the  present  time,  point  out  faults  that  every  person  of  intelligence 
knows  and  feels  to  be  defects.  A  few  years  since,  when  Jackson  was 
placed  in  the  White  House,  it  was  the  fashion  of  Europe  to  predict 
that  we  had  elevated  a  soldier  to  power,  and  that  the  government  of 
the  bayonet  was  at  hand.  This  every  intelligent  American  knew  to 
be  rank  nonsense.  The  approach  of  the  government  of  the  bayonet 
among  us,  if  it  is  ever  to  come,  may  be  foreseen  by  the  magnitude  of 
popular  abuses,  against  which  force  is  the  only  remedy.  Every  well- 
wisher  of  the  freedom  this  country  has  hitherto  enjoyed,  should  now 
look  upon  the  popular  tendencies  with  distrust,  as,  whenever  it  is 
taken  away,  it  will  go  as  their  direct  consequence ;  it  being  an  in- 
herent  principle  in  the  corrupt  nature  of  man  to  misuse  all  his  privi 
leges  ;  even  those  connected  with  religion  itself.  If  history  prove* 
anything,  it  proves  this.  —  EDITOR. 

17* 


198  THE    CHAIN  BEARER. 

with  the  delicacy  of  the  sex,  the  rich  mouth,  the  brilliant 
teeth,  and  the  spirited  and  yet  tender  blue  eyes,  may  have 
increased  a  wisdom  that  I  found  so  remarkable. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

u  Fie,  fie,  fond  love,  thou  art  so  full  of  fear, 
As  one  with  treasure  laden,  hemmed  with  thieves ; 
Trifles,  unwitnessed  with  eye  or  ear, 
Thy  coward  heart  with  false  bethinking  grieves." 

Venue  and  Adonis. 

THE  hut,  or  huts  of  Chainbearer,  had  far  more  comfort 
in  and  around  them,  than  I  was  prepared  to  find.  They 
were  three  in  number,  one  having  been  erected  as  a  kitchen, 
and  a  place  to  contain  the  male  slaves ;  another  for  the  spe 
cial  accommodation  of  Ursula  and  the  female  black ;  and 
the  third  to  receive  men.  The  eating-room  was  attached  to 
the  kitchen ;  and  all  these  buildings,  which  had  now  stood 
an  entire  year,  were  constructed  of  logs,  and  were  covered 
with  bark.  They  were  roughly  made,  as  usual ;  but  that 
appropriated  to  Dus  was  so  much  superior  to  the  others  in 
its  arrangements,  internal  and  external,  as  at  once  to  denote 
the  presence  and  the  influence  of  woman.  It  may  have 
some  interest  with  the  reader  briefly  to  describe  the  place. 

Quite  as  a  matter  of  course,  a  spring  had  been  found,  as 
the  first  consideration  in  "  locating,"  as  it  is  called  by  that 
portion  of  our  people  who  get  upon  their  conversational 
stilts.  The  spring  burst  out  of  the  side  of  a  declivity,  the 
land  stretching  away,  for  more  than  a  mile  from  its  foot,  in 
an  inclined  plane  that  was  densely  covered  with  some  of  the 
noblest  elms,  beeches,  maples  and  black  birches,  I  have 
ever  seen.  This  spot,  the  Chainbearer  early  assured  me, 
was  the  most  valuable  of  all  the  lands  of  Mooseridge.  He 
had  selected  it  because  it  was  central,  and  particularly  clear 
from  underbrush ;  besides  having  no  stagnant  water  near  it. 
In  other  respects,  it  was  like  any  other  point  in  that 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  199 

forest ;  being  dark,  shaded,  and  surrounded  by  the  magnifi 
cence  of  a  bountiful  vegetation. 

Here  Chainbearer  had  erected  his  hut,  a  low,  solid  struc 
ture  of  pine  logs,  that  were  picturesque  in  appearance,  and 
not  without  their  rude  comforts,  in  their  several  ways.  These 
buildings  were  irregularly  placed,  though  the  spring  was  in 
their  control.  The  kitchen  and  eating-room  was  nearest  the 
water ;  at  no  great  distance  from  these  was  the  habitation 
of  the  men ;  while  the  smaller  structure,  which  Frank  Mai- 
bone  laughingly  termed  the  "  harem,"  stood  a  little  apart, 
on  a  slight  spur  of  land,  but  within  fifty  yards  of  Andries' 
own  lodgings.  Boards  had  been  cut  by  hand,  for  the  floors 
and  doors  of  these  huts,  though  no  building  but  the  "  harem" 
had  any  window  that  was  glazed.  This  last  had  two  such 
windows,  and  Frank  had  even  taken  care  to  provide  for  his 
sister's  dwelling,  rude  but  strong  window-shutters. 

As  for  defences  against  an  enemy,  they  were  no  longer 
thought  of  within  the  limits  of  New  York.  Block-houses, 
and  otherwise  fortified  dwellings,  had  been  necessary,  so 
long  as  the  French  possessed  Canada  ;  but,  after  the  capture 
of  that  colony,  few  had  deemed  any  such  precautions  called 
for,  until  the  war  of  the  revolution  brought  a  savage  foe 
once  more  among  the  frontier  settlements ;  frontier,  as  to 
civilization,  if  not  as  to  territory.  With  the  termination  of 
that  war  had  ceased  this,  the  latest  demand  for  provisions 
of  that  nature ;  and  the  Chainbearer  had  not  thought  of 
using  any  care  to  meet  the  emergencies  of  violence,  in 
"  making  his  pitch." 

Nevertheless,  each  hut  would  have  been  a  reasonably 
strong  post,  on  an  emergency ;  the  logs  being  bullet-proof, 
and  still  remaining  undecayed  and  compact.  Palisades  were 
not  thought  of  now,  nor  was  there  any  covered  means  of 
communicating  between  one  hut  and  another.  In  a  word, 
whatever  there  might  be  in  the  way  of  security  in  these 
structures,  was  the  result  of  the  solidity  of  their  material, 
and  of  the  fashion  of  building  that  was  then,  and  is  still 
customary  everywhere  in  the  forest.  As  against  wild  beasts 
there  was  entire  protection,  and  other  enemies  were  no 
longer  dreaded.  Around  the  huts  there  were  no  enclosures 
of  any  sort,  nor  any  other  cleared  land,  than  a  spot  of  about 
half  au  acre  in  extent,  off  of  whicU  had  been  cut  the  small 


200  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

pines  that  furnished  the  logs  of  which  they  were  built.  A 
few  vegetables  had  been  put  into  the  ground  at  the  most 
open  point ;  but  a  fence  being  unnecessary,  none  had  been 
built.  As  for  the  huts,  they  stood  completely  shaded  by  the 
forest,  the  pines  having  been  cut  on  an  eminence  a  hundred 
yards  distant.  This  spot,  however,  small  as  it  was,  brought 
enough  of  the  commoner  sort  of  plants  to  furnish  a  fruga 
table. 

Such  was  the  spot  that  was  then  known  in  all  that  region 
by  the  name  of  the  "  Chainbearer's  Huts."  This  name  has 
been  retained,  and  the  huts  are  still  standing,  circumstances 
having  rendered  them  memorable  in  my  personal  history, 
and  caused  me  to  direct  their  preservation,  at  least  as  long 
as  I  shall  live.  As  the  place  had  been  inhabited  a  consider 
able  time  that  spring  and  summer,  it  bore  some  of  the  other 
signs  of  the  presence  of  man ;  but,  on  the  whole,  its  charac 
ter  as  a  residence  was  that  of  deep  forest  seclusion.  In 
point  of  fact,  it  stood  buried  in  the  woods,  distant  fully  fifteen 
miles  from  the  nearest  known  habitation,  and  in  so  much 
removed  from  the  comfort,  succour  and  outward  communi 
cations  of  civilized  life.  These  isolated  abodes,  however, 
are  by  no  means  uncommon  in  the  State,  even  at  the  pre 
sent  hour;  and  it  is  probable  that  some  of  them  will  be  to- 
be  found  during  the  whole  of  this  century.  It  is  true,  that 
the  western,  middle,  southern,  south-western,  north-western 
and  north-eastern  counties  of  New  York,  all  of  which  were 
wild,  or  nearly  so,  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  are 
already  well  settled,  or  are  fast  filling  up;  but,  there  is  a 
high,  mountainous  region,  in  middle-northern  New  York, 
which  will  remain  virtually  a  wilderness,  I  should  think, 
for  quite  a  century,  if  not  longer.  I  have  travelled  through 
this  district  of  wilderness  very  lately,  and  have  found  it 
picturesque  and  well  suited  for  the  sportsman,  abounding  in 
deer,  fish  and  forest-birds,  but  not  so  much  suited  to  the 
commoner  wants  of  man,  as  to  bring  it  very  soon  into  de 
mand  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of  the  husbandman.  If  this 
quarter  of  the  country  do  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  lawless 
squatters  and  plunderers  of  one  sort  and  another,  of  which 
there  is  always  some  danger  in  a  country  of  so  great  extent, 
it  will  become  a  very  pleasant  resort  of  the  sportsman,  who 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  201 

is  likely  to  soon  lose  his  haunts  in  the  other  quarters  of  the 
State. 

Jaap  had  brought  over  some  horses  of  mine  from  the 
Nest  as  sumpter-beasts,  and  these  being  sent  back  for  want 
of  provender,  the  negro  himself  remained  at  the  "  Huts"  as 
a  general  assistant,  and  as  a  sort  of  hunter.  A  Westchester 
negro  is  pretty  certain  to  be  a  shot,  especially  if  he  happen 
to  belong  to  the  proprietor  of  a  Neck ;  for  there  is  no  jea 
lousy  of  trusting  arms  in  the  hands  of  our  New  York  slaves. 
But,  Jaap  having  served,  in  a  manner,  was  entitled  to  burn 
as  much  gunpowder  as  he  pleased.  By  means  of  one  of  his 
warlike  exploits,  the  old  fellow  had  become  possessed  of  a 
very  capital  fowling-piece,  plunder  obtained  from  some  slain 
English  officer,  I  always  supposed  ;  and  this  arm  he  inva 
riably  kept  near  his  person,  as  a  trophy  of  his  own  success. 
The  shooting  of  Westchester,  however,  and  that  of  the  forest, 
were  very  different  branches  of  the  same  art.  Jaap  belonged 
to  the  school  of  the  former,  in  which  the  pointer  and  setter 
were  used.  The  game  was  "  put  up"  and  "  marked  down," 
and  the  bird  was  invariably  shot  on  the  wing.  My  attention 
was  early  called  to  this  distinction,  by  overhearing  a  con 
versation  between  the  negro  and  the  Indian,  that  took  place 
within  a  few  minutes  after  our  arrival,  and  a  portion  of 
which  I  shall  now  proceed  to  relate. 

Jaap  and  Sureflint  were,  in  point  of  fact,  very  old  ac 
quaintances,  and  fast  friends.  They  had  been  actors  in 
certain  memorable  scenes,  on  those  very  lands  of  Moose- 
ridge,  some  time  before  my  birth,  and  had  often  met  and 
served  as  comrades  during  the  last  war.  The  known  anti 
pathy  between  the  races  of  the  red  and  black  man  did  not 
exist  as  between  them,  though  the  negro  regarded  the  In 
dian  with  some  of  that  self-sufficiency  which  the  domestic 
servant  would  be  apt  to  entertain  for  a  savage  roamer  of  the 
forest ;  while  the  Onondago  could  not  but  look  on  my  fellow 
as  one  of  the  freest  of  the  free  would  naturally  feel  disposed 
to  look  on  one  who  was  content  to  live  in  bondage.  These 
feelings  were  rather  mitigated  than  extinguished  by  their 
friendship,  and  often  made  themselves  manifest  in  the  course 
of  their  daily  communions  with  each  other. 

A  bag  filled  with  squabs  had  been  brought  from  the  roost, 
and  Jaap  had  emptied  it  of  its  contents  on  the  ground  near 


202  THE     CIIAINBEARER. 

the  kitchen,  to  commence  the  necessary  operations  of  pick- 
ing  and  cleaning,  preparatory  to  handing  the  birds  over  to 
the  cook.  As  for  the  Onondago,  he  took  his  seat  near  by 
on  a  log  very  coolly,  a  spectator  of  his  companion's  labours, 
but  disdaining  to  enter  in  person  on  such  woman's  work, 
now  that  he  was  neither  on  a  message  nor  on  a  war-path. 
Necessity  alone  could  induce  him  to  submit  to  any  menial 
labour,  nor  do  I  believe  he  would  have  offered  to  assist,  had 
he  seen  the  fair  hands  of  Dus  herself  plucking  these  pigeons. 
To  him  it  would  have  appeared  perfectly  suitable  that  a 
"  squaw"  should  do  the  work  of  a  "  squaw,"  while  a  warrior 
maintained  his  dignified  idleness.  Systematic  and  intelligent 
industry  are  the  attendants  of  civilization,  the  wants  created 
by  which  can  only  be  supplied  by  the  unremitted  care  of 
those  who  live  by  their  existence. 

"  Dere,  ole  Sus,"  exclaimed  the  negro,  shaking  the  last 
of  the  dead  birds  from  the  bag — "  dere,  now,  Injin ;  I  s'pose 
you  t'inks  'em  ere's  game !" 

"  What  you  call  him,  eh  ?"  demanded  the  Onondago, 
eyeing  the  negro  sharply. 

"  I  doesn't  call  'em  game  a  bit,  red-skin.  Dem's  not 
varmint,  n'oder ;  but  den,  dem  isn't  game.  Game's  game, 
I  s'pose  you  does  know,  Sus?" 

"  Game,  game — good.     T'at  true — who  say  no  ?" 

"  Yes,  it 's  easy  enough  to  say  a  t'ing,  but  it  not  so  berry 
easy  to  understan'.  Can  any  Injin  in  York  State,  now,  tell 
me  why  pigeon  isn't  game  ?" 

"  Pigeon  game — good  game,  too.  Eat  sweet — many  time 
want  more." 

"  Now,  I  do  s'pose,  Trackless" — Jaap  loved  to  run  through 
the  whole  vocabulary  of  the  Onondago's  names — "  Now,  I 
do  s'pose,  Trackless,  you  t'ink  tame  pigeon  just  as  good  as 
wild?" 

"  Don't  know — nebber  eat  tame — s'pose  him  good,  too." 

"  Well,  den,  you  s'poses  berry  wrong.  Tame  pigeon  poor 
stuff;  but  no  pigeon  be  game.  Nuttin'  game,  Sureflint,  dat 
a  dog  won't  p'int,  or  set.  Masser  Mordaunt  h'an't  got  na 
dog  at  de  Bush  or  de  Toe,  and  he  keeps  dogs  enough  at  bot' 
dat  would  p'int  a  pigeon." 

"Pint  deer,  eh?" 

"  Well,  I  doesn't  know.     P'raps  he  will,  p'raps  he  wont. 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  203 

Dere  isn't  no  deer  in  Westchester  for  us  to  try  de  dogs  on, 
so  a  body  can't  tell.  You  remem'er  'e  day,  Sus,  when  we 
fit  your  red-skins  out  here,  'long  time  ago,  wit'  Masser 
Corny  and  Masser  Ten  Eyck,  and  ole  Masser  Herman 
Mordaunt,  and  Miss  Anneke,  and  Miss  Mary,  an'  your 
frien'  Jumper  ? — You  rernern'er  dat,  ha  !  Onondago  ?" 

"  Sartain — no  forget — Injin  nebber  forget.  Don't  forget 
friend — don't  forget  enemy." 

Here  Jaap  raised  one  of  his  shouting  negro  laughs,  in 
which  all  the  joyeusness  of  his  nature  seemed  to  enter  with 
as  much  zest  as  if  he  were  subjected  to  a  sort  of  mental 
tickling ;  then  he  let  the  character  of  his  merriment  be  seen 
by  his  answer. 

"  Sartain  'nough — you  remem'er  dat  feller,  Muss,  Track 
less  1  He  get  heself  in  a  muss  by  habbing  too  much  mem'ry. 
Good  to  hab  mem'ry  when  you  told  to  do  work ;  but  some 
time  rnem'ry  bad  'nough.  Berry  bad  to  hab  so  much  mem'ry 
dat  he  can't  forget  small  floggin'." 

"  No  true,"  answered  the  Onondago,  a  little  sternly, 
though  a  very  little ;  for,  while  he  and  Jaap  disputed  daily, 
they  never  quarrelled — "  No  true,  so.  Flog  bad  for  back." 

"  Well,  dat  because  you  red-skin  —  a  colour' man  don't 
mind  him  as  much  as  dis  squab.  Get  use  to  him  in  little 
while ;  den  he  nuttin'  to  speak  of." 

Sureflint  made  no  answer,  but  he  looked  as  if  he  pitied 
the  ignorance,  humility  and  condition  of  his  friend. 

"  What  you  t'ink  of  dis  worP,  Susquesus?"  suddenly  de 
manded  the  negro,  tossing  a  squab  that  he  had  cleaned  into 
a  pail,  and  taking  another.  "  How  you  t'ink  white  man 
come  ?  —  how  you  t'ink  red  man  come  1  —  how  you  t'ink 
colour'  gentl'em  come,  eh  ?" 

"  Great  Spirit  say  so  —  t'en  all  come.  Fill  Injin  full  of 
blood— t'at  make  him  red — fill  nigger  wit'  ink  —  t'at  make 
him  black — pale-face  pale  'cause  he  live  in  sun,  and  colour 
dry  out." 

Here  Jaap  laughed  so  loud,  that  he  drew  all  three  of 
Chainbearer's  blacks  to  the  door,  who  joined  in  the  fun  out 
of  pure  sympathy,  though  they  couid  not  have  known  its 
cause.  Those  blacks!  They  may  be  very  miserable  as 
slaves ;  but  it  is  certain  no  other  class  in  America  laugh  so 
often,  or  so  easily,  or  one-half  as  heartily. 


204  THE     CH  A  IN  BE  AKER* 

"  Harkee,  Injin"—- resumed  Jaap,  as  soon  as  he  had  laugh* 
ed  as  much  as  he  wished  to  do  at  that  particular  moment—- 
"  Harkee,  Injin~you  rtnk  'arth  round,  or  'arth  flat  ?" 

"  How  you  mean? — 'arth  up  and  down — no  round — no 
flat." 

"  Dat  not  what  I  mean.  Bot'  up  and  down  in  one  sens", 
but  no  up  and  down  in  'noder.  Masser  Mordaunt,  now,  and 
Masser  Corny  too,  hot'  say  'arth  round  like  an  apple,  and 
dat  he  'd  stand  one  way  in  day-time,  an'  'noder  way  in  night 
time.  Now,  what  you  t'ink  of  dat,  Injin  ?" 

The  Trackless  listened  gravely,  bat  he  expressed  neither 
assent  nor  dissent.  I  knew  he  had  a  respect  for  both  my 
father  and  myself;  but  it  was  asking  a  great  deal  of  him  to 
credit  that  the  world  was  round  ;  nor  did  he  understand  how 
one  could  be  turned  over  in  the  manner  Jaap  pretended. 

"  S'pose  it  so,"  he  remarked,  after  a  pause  of  reflection — 
"  S'pose  it  so,  den  man  stand  upside  down  ?  Man  stand 
on  foot ;  no  stand  on  head." 

"  Worl'  turn  round,  Injin ;  dat  a  reason  why  you  stand 
on  he  head  one  time ;  on  he  foot  'noder." 

"  Who  tell  t'at  tradition,  Jaap  ?  Nebber  heard  him  afore.'* 

"  Masser  Corny  tell  me  dat,  long  time  ago  ,*  when  I  war' 
little  boy.  Ask  Masser  Mordaunt  one  day,  and  he  tell  you 
a  same  story.  Ebberybody  say  dat  but  Masser  Dirck  Fol- 
lock ;  and  he  say  to  me,  one  time,  '  it  true,  Jaap,  t'e  book 
do  say  so — and  your  Masser  Corny  believe  him ;  but  I  want 
to  see  t'e  worl'  turn  round,  afore  I  b'lieve  it.'  Dat  what 
colonel  Pollock  say,  Trackless;  you  know  he  berry  ho 
nest." 

"  Good  —  honest  man,  colonel  —  brave  warrior  —  true 
friend  —  b'lieve  all  he  tell,  when  he  know  ;  but  don't  know 
ebbery  t'ing.  Gen'ral  know  more — major  young,  but  know 
more." 

Perhaps  my  modesty  ought  to  cause  me  to  hesitate  about 
recording  that  which  the  partiality  of  so  good  a  friend  as 
Susquesus  might  induce  him  to  say ;  but  it  is  my  wish  to 
be  particular,  and  to  relate  all  that  passed  on  this  occasion. 
Jaap  could  not  object  to  the  Indian's  proposition,  for  he  had 
too  much  love  and  attachment  for  his  two  masters  not  to 
admit  at  once  that  they  knew  more  than  colonel  Follock  • 
Mo  very  extravagant  assumption,  by  the  way. 


THE    CHAINBBAHER.  205 

"  Yes,  he  good  'nough,"  answered  the  black,  "  but  he 
don't  know  half  as  much  as  Masser  Corny,  or  Masser  Mor- 
daunt.  He  say  worP  isn't  round ;  now,  I  t'ink  he  look 
round." 

"  What  Chainbearer  say  ?"  asked  the  Indian,  suddenly, 
as  if  he  had  determined  that  his  own  opinion  should  be  go 
verned  by  that  of  a  man  whom  he  so  well  loved.  "  Chain 
bearer  nebber  lie." 

"  Nor  do  Masser  Corny,  nor  Masser  Mordaunt !"  ex 
claimed  Jaap,  a  little  indignantly.  "  You  t'ink,  Trackless, 
'eder  of  my  massers  lie  !" 

That  was  an  accusation  that  Susquesus  never  intended  to 
make ;  though  his  greater  intimacy  with,  and  greater  reli 
ance  on  old  Andries  had,  naturally  enough,  induced  him  tc 
ask  the  question  he  had  put. 

"  No  say  eeder  lie,"  answered  the  Onondago  ;  "  but  many 
"orked  tongue  about,  and  maybe  hear  so,  and  t'ink  so. 
Chainbearer  stop  ear ;  nebber  listen  to  crooked  tongue." 

"  Well,  here  come  Chainbearer  heself,  Sus ;  so,  jist  for 
graterfercashun,  you  shall  hear  what  'e  ole  man  say.     It 
berry  true,  Chainbearer  honest  man,  and  I  like  to  know  he 
opinion  myself,  sin'  it  isn't  easy,  Trackless,  to  understan' 
how  a  mortal  being  can  stan'  up,  head  down !" 
"  What  *  mortal  being'  mean,  eh?" 
«*  Why,  it  mean  mortality,  Injin — you,  mortality — I,  mor 
tality — Masser  Corny,  mortality — Masser  Mordaunt,  moi 
tality  —  Miss  Anneke,  mortality  —  ebberybody,  mortality  t 
but  ebberybody  not  'e  same  sort  of  mortality  ! — Understan* 
now,  Sus  ?" 

The  Indian  shook  his  head,  and  looked  perplexed ;  but 
the  Chainbearer  coming  up  at  that  moment,  that  branch  of 
the  matter  in  discussion  was  pursued  no  farther.  After  ex 
changing  a  few  remarks  about  the  pigeons,  Jaap  did  not 
scruple  to  redeem  the  pledge  he  had  given  his  red  friend, 
by  plunging  at  once  into  the  main  subject  with  the  Chain 
bearer. 

"  You  know  how  it  be  wid  Injin,  Masser  Chainbearer,' 

said  Jaap  — "  'Ey  is  always  poor  missedercated  creator's, 

and  knows  nuttin'  but  what  come  by  chance — now  here  be 

Sureflint    he  can  no  way  t'ink  dis  worl'  round ;  and  dat  it 

18 


206  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

turn  round,  too ;  and  so  he  want  me  to  ask  what  you  got  to 
say  about  dat  matter  ?" 

Chainbearer  was  no  scholar.  Whatever  may  be  said  of 
Leyden,  and  of  the  many,  very  many  learned  Dutchmen  it 
had  sent  forth  into  the  world,  few  of  them  ever  reached 
America.  Our  brethren  of  the  eastern  colonies,  now  States, 
had  long  been  remarkable,  as  a  whole,  for  that  fl  dangerous 
thing,"  a  "  little  learning ;"  but  I  cannot  say  that  the  Dutch 
of  New  York,  also  viewed  as  a  whole,  incurred  any  of  those 
risks.  To  own  the  truth,  it  was  not  a  very  easy  matter  to 
be  more  profoundly  ignorant,  on  all  things  connected  with 
science,  than  were  the  mass  of  the  uneducated  Dutch  of  New 
York,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  one  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  eighty-four.  It  made  little  difference  as  to  condition  in 
life,  unless  one  rose  as  high  as  the  old  colonial  aristocracy 
of  that  stock,  and  an  occasional  exception  in  favour  of  a 
family  that  intended  to  rear,  or  had  reared  in  its  bosom  a 
minister  of  the  gospel.  Such  was  the  strength  of  the  preju 
dice  among  these  people,  that  they  distrusted  the  English 
schools,  and  few  permitted  their  children  to  enter  them  ; 
while  those  they  possessed  of  their  own  were  ordinarily  of  a 
very  low  character.  These  feelings  were  giving  way  before 
the  influence  of  time,  it  is  true,  but  it  was  very  slowly ;  and 
it  was  pretty  safe  to  infer  that  every  man  of  low  Dutch  ex 
traction  in  the  colony  was  virtually  uneducated,  with  the 
exception  of  here  and  there  an  individual  of  the  higher  social 
castes,  or  one  that  had  been  especially  favoured  by  associa 
tion  and  circumstances.  As  for  that  flippant  knowledge,  of 
which  our  eastern  neighbours  possessed  so  large  an  amount, 
the  New  York  Dutch  appeared  to  view  it  with  peculiar  dis 
like,  disdaining  to  know  anything,  if  it  were  not  of  the  very 
best  quality.  Still,  there  were  a  few  to  whom  this  quality 
was  by  no  means  a  stranger.  In  these  isolated  cases,  the 
unwearied  application,  pains-taking  industry,  cautious  ap 
preciation  of  facts,  and  solid  judgment  of  the  parties,  had 
produced  a  few  men,  who  only  required  a  theatre  for  its 
exhibition,  in  order  to  cause  their  information  to  command 
the  profound  respect  of  the  learned,  let  them  live  where  they 
might.  What  they  did  acquire  was  thoroughly  got,  though 
seldom  paraded  for  the  purposes  of  mere  show. 

Old  Andries,  however,  was  not  of  the  class  just  named 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  207 

lie  belonged  to  the  rule,  and  not  to  its  exception.  Beyond 
a  question,  he  had  heard  all  the  more  familiar  truths  of 
science  alluded  to  in  discourse,  or  had  seen  them  in  the 
pages  of  books ;  but  thejr  entered  into  no  part  of  his  real 
opinions ;  for  he  was  not  sufficiently  familiar  with  the  dif 
ferent  subjects  to  feel  their  truths  in  a  way  to  incorporate 
them  with  his  mind. 

"  You  know  'tis  sait,  Jaap,"  Chainbearer  answered,  "  t'at 
bot'  are  true.  Efery  poty  wilt  tell  you  so ;  ant  all  t'e  folks 
I  haf  seen  holt  t'e  same  opinions." 

"  T'ink  him  true,  Chainbearer  ?"  the  Onondago  somewhat 
abruptly  demanded. 

"  I  s'pose  I  must,  Sureflint,  since  all  say  it.  T'e  pale 
faces,  you  know,  reat  a  great  many  pooks,  ant  get  to  pe 
much  wiser  t'an  ret-men." 

"  How  you  make  man  stan'  on  head,  eh  ?" 

Chainbearer  now  looked  over  one  shoulder,  then  over  the 
other ;  and  fancying  no  one  was  near  but  the  two  in  his 
front,  he  was  probably  a  little  more  communicative  than 
might  otherwise  have  been  the  case.  Drawing  a  little  nearer, 
like  one  who  is  about  to  deal  with  a  secret/ the  honest  old 
man  made  his  reply. 

"  To  pe  frank  wit'  you,  Sureflint,"  he  answered,  "  t'at  ist 
a  question  not  easily  answeret.  Eferypoty  says  'tis  so,  ant, 
therefore,  I  s'pose  it  must  pe  so ;  put  I  haf  often  asket  my 
self,  if  t'is  worlt  pe  truly  turnet  upsite  town  at  night,  how  is 
it,  olt  Chainpearer,  t'at  you  ton't  roll  out  of  pet  1  T'ere  's 
t'ings  in  natur'  t'at  are  incomprehensiple,  Trackless ;  quite 
incomprehensiple !" 

The  Indian  listened  gravely,  and  it  seemed  to  satisfy  his 
longings  on  the  subject,  to  know  that  they  were  things  in 
nature  that  are  incomprehensible.  As  for  the  Chainbearer, 
I  thought  that  he  changed  the  discourse  a  little  suddenly  on 
account  of  these  very  incomprehensible  things  in  nature ; 
for  it  is  certain  he  broke  off  on  another  theme,  in  a  way  to 
alter  all  the  ideas  of  his  companions,  let  them  be  on  their 
heads  or  their  heels. 

"  Is  it  not  true,  Jaap,  t'at  you  ant  t'e  Onondago,  here, 
wast  pot'  present  at  t'e  Injin  massacre  t'at  took  place  in 
t'ese  parts,  pefore  t'e  revolution,  in  t'e  olt  French  war  ?  I 
mean  t'e  time  when  one  Traverse,  a  surveyor,  ant  a  fery 


208  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

goot  surveyor  he  was,  was  kil't,  wit'  all  his  chainpearera 
ant  axe-men  ?" 

"  True  as  gospel,  Masser  Andries,"  returned  the  negro, 
Jooking  up  seriously,  and  shaking  his  head  —  "I  was  here, 
and  so  was  Sus.  Dat  wast  de  fuss  time  we  smell  gunpowder 
togedder.  De  French  Injins  was  out  in  droves,  and  dey  cut 
off  Masser  Traverse  and  all  his  party,  no  leaving  half  a 
scalp  on  a  single  head.  Yes,  sah ;  I  remembers  dat,  as  if 
t'was  last  night." 

"  Ant  what  was  tone  wit'  t'e  poties  ?  You  puriet  t'e  poties, 
surely  ?" 

"  Sartain  —  Pete,  Masser  Ten  Eyck's  man,  was  put  into 
a  hole,  near  Masser  Corny's  hut,  which  must  be  out  here, 
four  or  five  mile  off;  while  Masser  surveyor  and  his  men 
were  buried  by  a  spring,  somewhere  off  yonder.  Am  I 
right,  Injin  ?" 

The  Onondago  shook  his  head  ;  then  he  pointed  to  the  true 
direction  to  each  spot  that  had  been  mentioned,  showing  that 
Jaap  was  very  much  out  of  the  way.  I  had  heard  of  certain 
adventures  in  which  my  father  had  been  concerned  when  a 
young  man,  and  in  which,  indeed,  my  mother  had  been  in  a 
degree  an  actor,  but  I  did  not  know  enough  of  the  events 
fully  to  comprehend  the  discourse  which  succeeded.  It 
seemed  that  the  Chainbearer  knew  the  occurrences  by  re 
port  only,  not  having  been  present  at  the  scenes  connected 
with  them ;  but  he  felt  a  strong  desire  to  visit  the  graves  of 
the  sufferers.  As  yet,  he  had  not  even  visited  the  hut  of 
Mr.  Traverse,  the  surveyor  who  had  been  killed ;  for,  the 
work  on  which  he  had  been  employed,  being  one  of  detail, 
or  that  of  subdividing  the  great  lots  laid  down  before  the 
revolution,  into  smaller  lots,  for  present  sale,  it  had  not 
taken  him  as  yet  from  the  central  point  where  it  had  com 
menced.  His  new  assistant  chainbearer  was  not  expected 
to  join  us  for  a  day  or  two ;  and,  after  talking  the  matter 
over  with  his  two  companions  for  a  few  minutes,  he  an 
nounced  a  determination  to  go  in  quest  of  all  the  graves  the 
succeeding  morning,  with  the  intention  of  having  suitable 
memorials  of  their  existence  placed  over  them. 

The  evening  of  that  day  was  calm  and  delightful.  As 
the  sun  was  setting  I  paid  Dus  a  visit,  and  found  her  alone  in 
what  she  playfully  called  the  drawing-room  of  her  "  harem.' 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  209 

Luckily  there  were  no  mutes  to  prevent  my  entrance,  the 
usual  black  guardian,  of  whom  there  was  one,  being  still  in 
her  kitchen  at  work.  I  was  received  without  embarrass 
ment,  and  taking  a  seat  on  the  threshold  of  the  door,  I  sat 
conversing,  while  the  mistress  of  the  place  plied  her  needle 
on  a  low  chair  within.  For  a  time  we  talked  of  the  pigeons 
and  of  our  little  journey  in  the  woods ;  after  which  the  con 
versation  insensibly  took  a  direction  towards  our  present 
situation,  the  past,  and  the  future.  I  had  adverted  to  the 
Chainbearer's  resolution  to  search  for  the  graves ;  and,  at 
this  point,  I  shall  begin  to  record  what  was  said,  as  it  was 
said. 

"I  have  heard  allusions  to  those  melancholy  events, 
rather  than  their  history,"  I  added.  "  For  some  cause, 
neither  of  my  parents  likes  to  speak  of  them  ;  though  I  know 
not  the  reason." 

"  Their  history  is  well  known  at  Ravensnest,"  answered 
Dus ;  "  and  it  is  often  related  there ;  at  least,  as  marvels 
are  usually  related  in  country  settlements.  I  suppose  there 
is  a  grain  of  truth  mixed  up  with  a  pound  of  error." 

"  I  see  no  reason  for  misrepresenting  in  an  affair  of  that 
sort." 

"  There  is  no  other  than  the  universal  love  of  the  mar 
vellous,  which  causes  most  people  to  insist  on  having  it  in 
troduced  into  a  story,  if  it  do  not  happen  to  come  in  legiti 
mately.  Your  true  country  gossip  is  never  satisfied  with 
fact.  He  (or  she  would  be  the  better  word), insists  on  exer 
cising  a  dull  imagination  at  invention.  In  this  case,  how 
ever,  from  all  I  can  learn,  more  fact  and  less  invention  has 
been  used  than  common." 

We  then  spoke  of  the  outlines  of  the  story  each  had 
heard,  and  we  found  that,  in  the  main,  our  tales  agreed.  In 
making  the  comparison,  however,  I  found  that  I  was  dis 
posed  to  dwell  most  on  the  horrible  features  of  the  incidents, 
while  Dus,  gently  and  almost  insensibly,  yet  infallibly,  in 
clined  to  those  that  were  gentler,  and  which  had  more  con 
nection  with  the  affections. 

"  Your  account  is  much  as  mine,  and  both  must  be  true 
in  the  main,  as  you  got  your's  from  the  principal  actors," 
she  said ;  "  but  our  gossips  relate  certain  points  connected 
with  love  and  marriage,  about  which  you  have  been  silent. 
18*  J 


210  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  Let  me  hear  them,  then,"  I  cried ;  "  for  I  never  was 
in  a  better  mood  to  converse  of  love  and  marriage"  lay 
ing  a  strong  emphasis  on  the  last  word,  "  than  at  this  mo 
ment  !" 

The  girl  started,  blushed,  compressed  her  lips,  and  con 
tinued  silent  for  half  a  minute.  I  could  see  that  her  hand 
trembled,  but  she  was  too  much  accustomed  to  extraordinary 
situations  easily  to  lose  her  self-command.  It  was  nearly 
dusk,  too,  and  the  obscurity  in  which  she  sat  within  the 
hut,  which  was  itself  beneath  the  shade  of  tall  trees,  most 
probably  aided  her  efforts  to  seem  unconscious.  Yet,  I  had 
spoken  warmly,  and,  as  I  soon  saw,  in  a  manner  that  de 
manded  explanation,  though  at  the  moment  quite  without 
plan,  and  scarcely  with  the  consciousness  of  what  I  was 
doing.  I  decided  not  to  retreat,  but  to  go  on,  in  doing  which 
I  should  merely  obey  an  impulse  that  was  getting  to  be  too 
strong  for  much  further  restraint ;  that  was  not  the  precise 
moment,  nevertheless,  in  which  I  was  resolved  to  speak,  but 
I  waited  rather  for  the  natural  course  of  things.  In  the 
mean  time,  after  the  short  silence  mentioned,  the  discourse 
continued. 

"  All  I  meant,"  resumed  Bus,  "  was  the  tradition  which 
is  related  among  your  tenants,  that  your  parents  were 
united  in  consequence  of  the  manner  in  which  your  father 
defended  Herman  Mordaunt's  dwelling,  his  daughter  in 
cluded  —  though  Herman  Mordaunt  himself  preferred  some 
English  lord  for  his  son-in-law,  and — but  I  ought  to  repeat 
no  more  of  this  silly  tale." 

"  Let  me  hear  it  all,  though  it  be  the  loves  of  my  own 
parents." 

"  I  dare  say  it  is  not  true ;  for  what  vulgar  report  of  pri 
vate  feelings  and  private  acts  ever  is  so?  My  tradition 
added,  that  Miss  Mordaunt  was,  at  first,  captivated  by  the 
brilliant  qualities  of  the  young  lord,  though  she  much  pre 
ferred  general  Littlepage  in  the  end ;  and  that  her  marriage 
has  been  most  happy." 

"  Your  tradition,  then,  has  not  done  my  mother  justice, 
but  is  feulty  in  many  things.  Your  young  lord  was  merely 
a  baronet's  heir ;  and  I  know  from  my  dear  grandmother 
that  my  mother's  attachment  to  my  father  commenced  when 
she  was  a  mere  child,  and  was  the  consequence  of  his  re- 


THE    CH  AINBE  ARER.  211 

senting  an  insult  she  received  at  the  time  from  some  other 
boy." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that !"  exclaimed  Dus,  with  an  emphasis 
so  marked,  that  I  was  surprised  at  the  earnestness  of  her 
manner.  "  Second  attachments  in  women  to  me  always 
seem  misplaced.  There  was  another  vein  to  my  tradition, 
which  tells  of  a  lady  who  lost  her  betrothed  the  night  the 
Nest  was  assailed,  and  who  has  ever  since  lived  unmarried, 
true  to  his  memory.  That  is  a  part  of  the  story  I  have  ever 
loved !" 

"  Was  her  name  Wallace  ?"  I  asked,  eagerly. 
"  It  was ;  Mary  Wallace— and  I  have  honoured  the  name 
ever  since  I  heard  the  circumstances.  In  my  eyes,  Mr. 
Littlepage,  there  can  be  no  picture  more  respectable  than 
that  of  a  female  remaining  true  to  her  first  attachments, 
under  all  circumstances ;  in  death,  as  Well  as  in  life" 

«*  Or  in  mine,  beloved  Ursula !"  I  cried  —  but,  I  will  not 
make  a  fool  of  myself,  by  attempting  to  record  what  I  said 
next.  The  fact  was,  that  Dus  had  been  winding  herself 
round  my  heart  for  the  last  few  weeks  in  a  way  that  would 
have  defied  any  attempts  of  mine  to  extricate  it  from  the 
net  into  which  it  had  fallen,  had  I  the  wish  to  do  so.  But, 
I  had  considered  the  matter,  and  saw  no  reason  to  desire 
freedom  from  the  dominion  of  Ursula  Malbone.  To  me, 
she  appeared  all  that  man  could  wish,  and  I  saw  no  impedi 
ment  to  a  union  in  the  circumstance  of  her  poverty.  Her 
family  and  education  were  quite  equal  to  my  own ;  and 
these  very  important  considerations  admitted,  I  had  fortune 
enough  for  both.  It  was  material  that  we  should  have  the 
habits,  opinions,  prejudices  if  you  will,  of  the  same  social 
caste ;  but  beyond  this,  worldly  considerations,  in  my  view 
of  the  matter,  ought  to  have  no  influence. 

Under  such  notions,  therefore,  and  guided  by  the  strong 
impulse  of  a  generous  and  manly  passion,  I  poured  out  my 
whole  soul  to  Dus.  I  dare  say  I  spoke  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  without  once  being  interrupted.  I  did  not  wish  to  hear 
my  companion's  voice ;  for  I  had  the  humility  which  is  said 
to  be  the  inseparable  attendant  of  a  true  love,  and  was  fear 
ful  that  the  answer  might  not  be  such  as  I  could  wish  to 
hear.  I  could  perceive,  spite  of  the  increasing  obscurity, 
that  Dus  was  strongly  agitated;  and  will  confess  a  lively 


212  THE     CII  AINBEARER. 

hope  was  created  within  me  by  this  circumstance.  Thus 
encouraged,  it  was  natural  to  lose  my  fears  in  the  wish  to 
be  more  assured ;  and  I  now  pressed  for  a  reply.  After  a 
brief  pause,  I  obtained  it  in  the  followjng  words,  which  were 
uttered  with  a  tremor  and  sensibility  that  gave  them  tenfold 
weight. 

"  For  this  unexpected,  and  I  believe  sincere  declaration, 
Mr.  Littlepage,  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart," 
the  precious  creature  commenced.  "  There  are  a  frankness, 
an  honourable  sincerity  and  a  noble  generosity  in  such  a 
declaration,  coming  from  you  to  me,  that  can  never  be  for 
gotten.  But,  I  am  not  my  own  mistress  —  my  faith  is 
plighted  to  another — my  affections  are  with  my  faith ;  and 
I  cannot  accept  offers  which,  so  truly  generous,  so  truly 
noble,  demand  the  most  explicit  reply — " 

I  heard  no  more ;  for,  springing  from  the  floor,  and  an 
attitude  that  was  very  nearly  that  of  being  on  my  knees,  I 
rushed  from  the  hut  and  plunged  into  the  forest. 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  213 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

Dans.  "  Ye  boys  who  pluck  the  flowers,  and  spoil  the  spring, 
Beware  the  secret  snake  that  shoots  a  sting." 

Dryden's  Eclogues. 

FOR  the  first  half  hour  after  I  left  Ursula  Malbone's  hut, 
I  was  literally  unconscious  of  whither  I  was  going,  or  of 
what  I  was  about.  I  can  recollect  nothing  but  having  pass 
ed  quite  near  to  the  Onondago,  who  appeared  desirous  of 
speaking  to  me,  but  whom  I  avoided  by  a  species  of  instinct 
rather  than  with  any  design.  In  fact,  fatigue  first  brought 
me  fairly  to  my  senses.  I  had  wandered  miles  and  miles, 
plunging  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  wilds  of  the  forest,  and 
this  without  any  aim,  or  any  knowledge  of  even  the  direc 
tion  in  which  I  was  going.  Night  soon  came  to  cast  its 
shadows  on  the  earth,  and  my  uncertain  course  was  held 
amid  the  gloom  of  the  hour,  united  to  those  of  the  woods.  I 
had  wearied  myself  by  rapid  walking  over  the  uneven  sur 
face  of  the  forest,  and  finally  threw  myself  on  the  trunk  of 
a  fallen  tree,  willing  to  take  some  repose. 

At  first,  I  thought  of  nothing,  felt  for  nothing  but  the  un 
welcome  circumstance  that  the  faith  of  Dus  was  plighted  to 
another.  Had  I  fallen  in  love  with  Priscilla  Bayard,  such 
an  announcement  could  not  have  occasioned  the  same  sur 
prise  ;  for  she  lived  in  the  world,  met  with  men  of  suitable 
educations,  conditions  and  opinions,  and  might  be  supposed 
to  have  been  brought  within  the  influence  of  the  attentions 
and  sympathies  that  are  wont  to  awaken  tenderness  in  the 
female  breast.  With  Dus,  it  had  been  very  different :  she 
had  gone  from  the  forest  to  the  school,  and  returned  from 
the  school  to  the  forest.  It  was  true,  that  her  brother,  whilo 


214  THE     CHAIN  BE  ARER. 

a  soldier,  might  have  had  some  friend  who  admired  Ursula, 
and  whose  admiration  awakened  her  youthful  sympathies 
but  this  was  only  a  remote  probability,  and  I  was  left  bur- 
thened  with  a  load  of  doubt  as  respected  even  the  character 
and  position  of  my  rival. 

"  At  any  rate,  he  must  be  poor,"  I  said  to  myself,  the 
moment  I  was  capable  of  reflecting  coolly  on 'the  subject, 
"  or  he  would  never  have  left  Dus  in  that  hut,  to  pass  her 
youth  amid  chainbearers  and  the  other  rude  beings  of  a 
frontier.  If  I  cannot  obtain  her  love,  I  may  at  least  contri 
bute  to  her  happiness  by  using  those  means  which  a  kind  Pro 
vidence  has  bestowed,  and  enabling  her  to  marry  at  once." 
For  a  little  while  I  fancied  my  own  misery  would  be  less 
ened,  could  I  only  see  Dus  married  and  happy.  This  feel 
ing  did  not  last  long,  however  ;  though  I  trust  the  desire  to 
see  her  happy  remained  after  I  became  keenly  conscious  it 
would  require  much  time  to  enable  me  to  look  on  such  a 
spectacle  with  composure.  Nevertheless,  the  first  tranquil 
moment,  the  first  relieving  sensation  I  experienced,  was 
from  the  conviction  I  felt  that  Providence  had  placed  it  in 
my  power  to  cause  Ursula  and  the  man  of  her  choice  to  be 
united.  This  recollection  gave  me  even  a  positive  pleasure 
for  a  little  while,  and  I  ruminated  on  the  means  of  effecting 
it,  literally  for  hours.  I  was  still  thinking  of  it,  indeed, 
when  I  threw  myself  on  the  fallen  tree,  where  weariness 
caused  me  to  fall  into  a  troubled  sleep,  that  lasted,  with 
more  or  less  of  forgetfulness,  several  hours.  The  place  I 
had  chosen  on  the  tree  was  among  its  branches,  on  which 
the  leaves  were  still  hanging,  and  it  was  not  without  its 
conveniences. 

When  I  awoke,  it  was  day-light ;  or,  such  a  day-light  as 
penetrates  the  forest  ere  the  sun  has  risen.  At  first  I  felt 
stiff  and  sore  from  the  hardness  of  my  bed ;  but,  on  chang 
ing  my  attitude  and  sitting  up,  these  sensations  soon  wore 
off,  leaving  me  refreshed  and  calm.  To  my  great  surprise, 
however,  I  found  that  a  small,  light  blanket,  such  as  wood 
men  use  in  summer,  had  been  thrown  over  me,  to  the  ge 
nial  warmth  of  which  I  was  probably  indebted  more  than  I 
then  knew  myself.  This  circumstance  alarmed  me  at  first, 
since  it  was  obvious  the  blanket  could  not  have  come  there 
without  hands ;  though  a  moment's  reflection  satisfied  mo 


THECHAINBEARER.  215 

that  the  throwing  it  over  me,  under  the  circumstances,  must 
have  been  the  act  of  a  friend.  I  arose,  however  to  my  feet, 
walked  along  the  trunk  of  the  tree  until  clear  of  its  branches, 
and  looked  about  me  with  a  lively  desire  to  ascertain  who 
this  secret  friend  might  be. 

The  place  was  like  any  other  in  the  solitude  of  the  forest. 
There  were  the  usual  array  of  the  trunks  of  stately  trees, 
the  leafy  canopy,  the  dark  shadows,  the  long  vistas,  the 
brown  and  broken  surface  of  the  earth,  and  the  damp  cool 
ness  of  the  boundless  woods.  A  fine  spring  broke  out  of  a 
hill-side,  quite  near  me,  and  looking  further,  with  the  inten 
tion  to  approach  and  use  its  water,  the  mystery  of  the 
blanket  was  at  once  explained.  I  saw  the  form  of  the 
Onondago,  motionless  as  one  of  the  trees  which  grew  around 
him,  leaning  on  his  rifle,  and  seemingly  gazing  at  some 
object  that  lay  at  his  feet.  In  a  minute  I  was  at  his  side, 
when  I  discovered  that  he  was  standing  over  a  human  ske 
leton  !  This  was  a  strange  and  startling  object  to  meet  in 
the  depth  of  the  woods !  -  Man  was  of  so  little  account,  was 
so  seldom  seen  in  the  virgin  wilds  of  America,  that  one 
naturally  felt  more  shocked  at  finding  such  a  memorial  of 
his  presence,  in  a  place  like  that,  than  would  have  been  the 
case  had  he  stumbled  on  it  amid  peopled  districts.  As  for 
the  Indian,  he  gazed  at  the  bones  so  intently  that  he  either 
did  not  hear,  or  he  totally  disregarded  my  approach.  I 
touched  him  with  a  finger  before  he  even  looked  up.  Glad 
of  any  excuse  to  avoid  explanation  of  my  own  conduct,  I 
eagerly  seized  the  occasion  offered  by  a  sight  so  unusual, 
to  speak  of  other  things. 

"  This  has  been  a  violent  death,  Sureflint,"  I  said  ;  "  else 
the  body  would  not  have  been  left  unburied.  The  man  has 
been  killed  in  some  quarrel  of  the  red  warriors." 

"  Was  bury,"  answered  the  Indian,  without  manifesting 
the  least  surprise  at  my  touch,  or  at  the  sound  of  my  voice. 
"  Dere,  see  grave  ?  'Arth  wash  away,  and  bones  come  out. 
Nuttin'  else.  Know  he  bury,  for  help  bury,  myself." 

"  Do  you,  then,  know  anything  of  this  unhappy  man,  and 
of  the  cause  of  his  death  ?" 

"  Sartain ;  know  all  'bout  him.  Kill  in  ole  French  war. 
Fader  here;  and  colonel  Follock;  Jaap,  too.  Huron  kill 


216  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

'em  all;  afterward,  we  flog  Huron.  Yes,  dat  ole  story 
now !" 

"  I  have  heard  something  of  this !  This  must  have  been 
the  spot,  then,  where  one  Traverse,  a  surveyor,  was  set 
upon  by  the  enemy,  and  was  slain,  with  his  chainbearers 
and  axe-men.  My  father  and  his  friends  did  find  the  bodies 
and  bury  them,  after  a  fashion." 

"  Sartain ;  just  so ;  poor  bury,  d'ough,  else  he  nebber 
come  out  of  groun'.  Dese  bones  of  surveyor ;  know  'em 
well :  hab  one  leg  broke,  once.  Dere ;  you  see  mark." 

"  Shall  we  dig  a  new  grave,  Susquesus,  and  bury  the 
remains  again  ?" 

"  Best  not,  now.  Chainbearer  mean  do  dat.  Be  here 
by-'m-bye.  Got  somet'ing  else  t'ink  of  now.  You  own 
all  land  'bout  here,  so  no  need  be  in  hurry." 

"  I  suppose  that  my  father  and  colonel  Pollock  do.  These 
men  were  slain  on  the  estate,  while  running  out  its  great 
lots.  I  think  I  hare  heard  they  had  not  near  finished  their 
work  in  this  quarter  of  the  patent,  which  was  abandoned  on 
account  of  the  troubles  of  that  day." 

"  Just  so ;  who  own  mill,  here,  den  1" 

"  There  is  no  mill  near  us,  Susquesus ;  can  be  no  mill, 
as  not  an  acre  of  the  Ridge  property  has  ever  been  sold  or 
leased." 

"  May  be  so — mill  dough — not  far  off,  needer.  Know 
mill  when  hear  him.  Saw  talk  loud." 

"  You  surely  do  not  hear  the  saw  of  a  mill  now,  my 
friend.  I  can  hear  nothing  like  one." 

"  No  hear,  now;  dat  true.  But  hear  him  in  night.  Ear 
good,  in  night — hear  great  way  off." 

"  You  are  right  enough,  there,  Susquesus.  And  you 
fancied  you  heard  the  stroke  of  a  saw,  from  this  place, 
during  the  quiet  and  heavy  air  of  the  past  night  ?" 

"Sartain — know  well;  hear  him  plain  enough.  Isn't 
mile  off.  Out  here  ;  find  him  dere." 

This  was  still  more  startling  than  the  discovery  of  the 
skeleton.  I  had  a  rough,  general  map  of  the  patent  in  my 
pocket;  and,  on  examination,  I  found  a  mill-stream  was  laid 
down  on  it,  quite  near  the  spot  where  we  stood.  The 
appearance  of  the  woods,  and  the  formation  of  the  land, 
moreover,  favoured  the  idea  of  the  proximity  of  a  mill 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  217 

Pine  was  plenty,  and  the  hills  were  beginning  to  swell  into 
something  resembling  mountains. 

Fasting,  and  the  exercise  I  had  taken,  had  given  me  a 
keen  appetite ;  and,  in  one  sense  at  least,  I  was  not  sorry  to 
believe  that  human  habitations  were  near.  Did  any  persons 
dwdl  in  that  forest,  they  were  squatters,  but  I  did  not  feel 
much  personal  apprehension  in  encountering  such  men ; 
especially  when  my  only  present  object  was  to  ask  for  food 
The  erecting  of  a  mill  denoted  a  decided  demonstration,  it  is 
true,  and  a  little  reflection  might  have  told  me  that  its  occu 
pants  would  not  be  delighted  by  a  sudden  visit  from  the 
representative  of  the  owners  of  the  soil.  On  the  other 
hand,  however,  the  huts  were  long  miles  away,  and  neither 
Sureflint  nor  I  had  the  smallest  article  of  food  about  us. 
Both  were  hungry,  though  the  Onondago  professed  indiffer 
ence  to  the  feeling,  an  unconcern  I  could  not  share  with  him, 
owing  to  habits  of  greater  self-indulgence.  Then  I  had  a 
strong  wish  to  solve  this  mystery  of  the  mill,  in  addition  to 
a  feverish  desire  to  awaken  within  me  some  new  excitement, 
as  a  counterpoise  to  that  I  still  keenly  felt  in  behalf  of  my 
disappointed  love. 

Did  I  not  so  well  understand  the  character  of  my  com 
panion,  and  the  great  accuracy  of  Indian  senses,  I  might 
have  hesitated  about  going  on  what  seemed  to  be  a  fool's 
errand.  But  circumstances,  that  were  then  of  recent  ori 
gin,  existed  to  give  some  countenance  to  the  conjecture  of 
Sureflint,  if  conjecture  his  precise  knowledge  could  be 
called.  Originally,  New  York  claimed  the  Connecticut  for 
a  part  of  its  eastern  boundary,  but  large  bodies  of  settlers 
had  crossed  that  stream,  coming  mainly  from  the  adjacen 
colony  of  New  Hampshire,  and  these  persons  had  become 
formidable  by  their  positions  and  numbers,  some  time  ante 
rior  to  the  Revolution.  During  that  struggle,  these  hardy 
mountaineers  had  manifested  a  spirit  favourable  to  the  colo 
nies,  in  the  main,  though  every  indication  of  an  intention  to 
settle  their  claims  was  met  by  a  disposition  to  declare  them 
selves  neutral.  In  a  word,  they  were  sufficiently  patriotic, 
if  left  to  do  as  they  pleased  in  the  matter  of  their  posses 
sions,  but  not  sufficiently  so  to  submit  to  the  regular  admin 
istration  of  the  law.  About  the  close  of  the  war,  the  leaders 
of  this  self-created  colony  were  more  than  suspected  of 
19 


218  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

coquetting  with  the  English  authorities ;  not  that  they  pre 
ferred  the  government  of  the  crown,  or  any  other  control,  to 
their  own,  but  because  the  times  were  favourable  to  playing 
off  their  neutrality,  in  this  manner,  as  a  means  of  securing 
themselves  in  the  possession  of  lands  to  which  their  titles,  in 
the  ordinary  way,  admitted  of  a  good  deal  of  dispute,  to  say 
the  least.  The  difficulty  was  by  no  means  disposed  of  by 
the  peace  of  '83  ;  but  the  counties,  that  were  then  equally 
known  by  the  name  of  Vermont,  and  that  of  the  Hampshire 
Grants,  were  existing,  in  one  sense,  as  a  people  apart,  not 
yet  acknowledging  the  power  of  the  confederacy  ;  nor  did 
they  come  into  the  union,  under  the  constitution  of  1789, 
until  all  around  them  had  done  so,  and  the  last  spark  of 
opposition  to  the  new  system  had  been  extinguished. 

It  is  a  principle  of  moral,  as  well  as  of  physical  nature, 
that  like  should  produce  like.  The  right  ever  vindicates 
itself,  in  the  process  of  events,  and  the  sins  of  the  fathers  are 
visited  upon  the  children,  even  to  the  third  and  fourth  gene 
rations,  in  their  melancholy  consequences.  It  was  impos 
sible  that  an  example  of  such  a  wrong  could  be  successfully 
exhibited  on  a  large  scale,  without  producing  its  deluded 
imitators,  on  another  that  was  better  suited  to  the  rapacity 
of  individual  longings.  It  is  probable  Vermont  has  sent  out, 
among  us,  two  squatters,  and  otherwise  lawless  intruders  on 
our  vacant  lands,  to  one  of  any  other  of  the  adjoining  States, 
counting  all  in  proportion  to  their  whole  numbers.  I  knew 
that  the  county  of  Charlotte,  as  Washington  was  then  called, 
was  peculiarly  exposed  to  inroads  of  this  nature ;  and  did 
not  feel  much  surprise  at  this  prospect  of  meeting  with  some 
of  the  fruits  of  the  seed  that  had  been  so  profusely  scattered 
along  the  sides  of  the  Green  Mountains.  Come  what  would, 
however,  I  was  determined  to  ascertain  the  facts,  as  soon 
as  possible,  with  the  double  purpose  of  satisfying  both  hun 
ger  and  curiosity.  As  for  the  Indian,  he  was  passive, 
yielding  to  my  decision  altogether  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"  Since  you  think  there  is  a  mill,  out  here,  west  of  us, 
Sureflint,"  I  observed,  after  turning  the  matter  over  in  my 
mind,  "  I  will  go  and  search  for  it,  if  you  will  bear  me 
company.  You  think  you  can  find  it,  I  trust,  knowing  the 
direction  in  which  it  stands  ?" 

"Sartain— find  him  easy  'nough.     Find  stream  first— 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  219 

den  find  mill.     Got  ear — got  eye — no  hard  to  find  him. 
Hear  saw  'fore  great  while." 

I  acquiesced,  and  made  a  sign  for  my  companion  to  pro 
ceed.  Susquesus  was  a  man  of  action,  and  not  of  words ; 
and,  in  a  minute,  he  was  leading  the  way  towards  a  spot 
in  the  woods  that  looked  as  if  it  might  contain  the  bed  of 
the  stream  that  was  known  to  exist  somewhere  near  by, 
since  it  was  laid  down  on  the  map. 

The  sort  of  instinct  possessed  by  the  Trackless,  enabled 
him  soon  to  find  this  little  river.  It  was  full  of  water,  and 
had  a  gentle  current ;  a  fact  that  the  Indian  immediately 
interpreted  into  a  sign  that  the  mill  must  be  above  us,  since 
the  dam  would  have  checked  the  course  of  the  water,  had 
we  been  above  that.  Turning  up  stream,  then,  my  com 
panion  moved  on,  with  the  same  silent  industry  as  he  would 
have  trotted  along  the  path  that  led  to  his  own  wigwam,  had 
he  been  near  it. 

We  had  not  been  on  the  banks  of  the  stream  five  minutes, 
before  the  Trackless  came  to  a  dead  halt ;  like  one  who  had 
met  an  unexpected  obstacle.  I  was  soon  at  his  side,  curious 
to  know  the  motive  of  this  delay. 

"  Soon  see  mill,  now,"  Susquesus  said,  in  answer  to  an 
inquiry  of  mine.  "  Board  plenty — come  down  stream  fast 
as  want  him." 

Sure  enough,  boards  were  coming  down,  in  the  current 
of  the  river,  much  faster  than  one  who  was  interested  in  the 
property  would  be  apt  to  wish ;  unless,  indeed,  he  felt  cer 
tain  of  obtaining  his  share  of  the  amount  of  sales.  These 
boards  were  neither  in  rafts',  nor  in  cribs ;  but  they  came 
singly,  or  two  or  three  laid  together,  as  if  some  arrange 
ment  had  been  made  to  arrest  them  below,  before  they 
should  reach  any  shoals,  falls,  or  rapids.  All  this  looked 
surprisingly  like  a  regular  manufacture  of  lumber,  with  a 
view  to  sales  in  the  markets  of  the  towns  on  the  Hudson. 
The  little  stream  we  were  on,  was  a  tributary  of  that  noble 
river,  and,  once  in  the  latter,  there  would  be  no  very  mate 
rial  physical  obstacle  to  conveying  the  product  of  our  hills 
over  the  habitable  globe. 

«*  This  really  looks  like  trade,  Sureflint,"  I  said,  as  soon 
as  certain  that  my  eyes  did  not  deceive  me.  "  Where  there 
are  boards  made,  men  cannot  be  far  off.  Lumber,  cut  to 


220  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

order,  does  not  grow  in  the  wilderness,  though  the  material 
of  which  it  is  made,  may." 

"  Mill  make  him.  Know'd  mill,  when  hear  him.  Talk 
plain  'nough.  Pale-face  make  mill,  but  red-man  got  ear  to 
hear  wit' !" 

This  was  all  true  enough ;  and  it  remained  to  ascertain 
what  was  to  come  of  it.  I  will  acknowledge,  that,  when  I 
saw  those  tell-tale  boards  come  floating  down  the  winding, 
little  river,  I  felt  a  thrilling  of  the  nerves,  as  if  assured 
the  sight  would  be  succeeded  by  some  occurrence  of  im 
portance  to  myself.  I  knew  that  these  lawless  lumbermen 
bore  a  bad  name  in  the  land,  and  that  they  were  generally 
regarded  as  a  set  of  plunderers,  who  did  not  hesitate  to 
defend  themselves  and  their  habits,  by  such  acts  of  violence 
and  fraud  as  they  fancied  their  circumstances  justified.  It 
is  one  evil  of  crime,  where  it  penetrates  masses,  that  num 
bers  are  enabled  to  give  it  a  gloss,  and  a  seeming  merit,  that 
unsettle  principles ;  rendering  the  false  true,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  ignorant,  and  generally  placing  evil  before  good.  This  is 
one  of  the  modes  in  which  justice  vindicates  itself,  under  the 
providence  of  God  ;  the  wrongs  committed  by  communities 
re-acting  on  themselves,  in  the  shape  of  a  demoralization 
that  soon  brings  its  own  merited  punishment. 

There  was  little  time  for  speculation  or  conjecture,  how 
ever  ;  for,  resuming  our  march,  the  next  bend  in  the  river 
brought  into  view  a  reach  of  the  stream  in  which  half  a 
dozen  men  and  lads  were  at  work  in  the  water,  placing  the 
boards  in  piles  of  two  or  three,  and  setting  them  in  the  cur 
rent,  at  points  favourable  to  their  floating  downwards. 
Booms,  connected  with  chains,  kept  the  confused  pile  in  a 
sort  of  basin  beneath  some  low  cliffs,  on  the  margin  of  which 
stood  the  expected  mill  itself.  Here,  then,  was  ocular  proof 
that  squatters  were  systematically  at  work,  plundering  the 
forests,  of  which  I  was  in  charge,  of  their  most  valuable 
trees,  and  setting  everything  like  law  and  right  at  defiance. 
The  circumstances  called  for  great  decision,  united  with  the 
utmost  circumspection.  I  had  gone  so  far,  that  pride  would 
not  suffer  me  to  retreat,  had  not  a  sense  of  duty  to  my  father 
and  colonel  Follock,  come  to  increase  the  determination  to 
go  on. 

The  reader  may  feel  some  desire  to  know  how  far  Dus 


THE    CHAINBEA11ER.  221 

mingled  with  my  thoughts,  all  this  time.  She  was  never 
absolutely  out  of  them,  though  the  repulse  I  had  met  in  my 
affections  gave  an  impetus  to  my  feelings  that  rendered  me 
more  than  usually  disposed  to  enter  on  an  adventure  of 
hazard  and  wildness.  If  I  were  naught  to  Ursula  Malbone, 
it  mattered  little  what  else  became  of  me.  This  was  the 
sentiment  that  was  uppermost,  and  I  have  thought,  ever 
since,  that  Susquesus  had  some  insight  into  the  condition  of 
my  feelings,  and  understood  the  cause  of  the  sort  of  despe 
ration  with  which  I  was  about  to  rush  on  danger.  We 
were,  as  yet,  quite  concealed,  ourselves ;  and  the  Indian 
profited  by  the  circumstance,  to  hold  a  council,  before  we 
trusted  our  persons  in  the  hands  of  those  who  might  feel  it  to 
be  their  interest  to  make  away  with  us,  in  preference  to 
permitting  us  ever  to  see  our  friends  again.  In  doing  this, 
however,  Sureflint  was  in  no  degree  influenced  by  concern 
for  himself,  but  solely  by  a  desire  to  act  as  became  an 
experienced  warrior,  on  a  very  difficult  war-path. 

"  S'pose  you  know,"  said  Sureflint.  "  'Em  no  good  men 
— Varmount  squatter — you  t'ink  own  land — dey  tink  own 
land.  Carry  rifle  and  do  as  please.  Best  watch  him." 

"  I  believe  I  understand  you,"  Susquesus,  and  I  shall  be 
on  my  guard,  accordingly.  Did  you  ever  see  either  of  those 
men  before  ?" 

"  T'ink  have.  Must  meet  all  sort  of  men,  when  he  go 
up  and  down  in  'e  wood.  Despret  squatter,  dat  ole  man, 
out  yonder.  Call  himself  T'ousandacre  —  say  he  alway 
own  t'ousand  acre  when  he  have  mind  to  find  him." 

"  The  gentleman  must  be  well  provided  with  estates  !  A 
thousand  acres  will  make  a  very  pretty  homestead  for  a 
wanderer,  especially  when  he  has  the  privilege  of  carrying 
it  about  with  him,  in  his  travels.  You  mean  the  man  with 
grey  hairs,  I  suppose— he  who  is  half  dressed  in  buckskin  ?" 

"Sartain;  dat  ole  T'ousandacre  —  nebber  want  land — 
take  him  where  he  find  him.  Born  over  by  great  salt  lake, 
he  say,  and  been  travel  toward  setting  sun  since  a  boy. 
Alway  help  himself— Hampshire  Grant  man,  dat.  But, 
Major,  why  he  no  got  right,  well  as  you  ?" 

"  Because  our  laws  give  him  no  right,  while  it  gives  to 
the  owner  in  fee,  a  perfect  right.  It  is  one  of  the  conditions 
of  the  society  in  which  we  live,  that  men  shall  respect  each 
19* 


222  THE     CHAIN  BEARER* 

other's  property,  and  this  is  not  his  property,  but  mine — or 
rather,  it  is  the  property  of  my  father  and  colonel  Pollock." 

"  Best  not  say  so,  den.  No  need  tell  ebbery  t'ing.  No 
your  land,  say  no  your  land.  If  he  t'ink  you  spy,  p'raps 
he  shoot  you,  eh  ?  Pale-face  shoot  spy ;  red  man  t'ink  spy 
good  feller !" 

"  Spies  can  be  shot  only  in  time  of  war ;  but  war  or 
peace,  you  do  not  think  these  men  will  push  matters  to  ex 
tremities  ?  They  will  be  afraid  of  the  law." 

"  Law  ! — What  law  to  him  ? — Nebber  see  law — don't  go 
near  law ;  don't  know  him." 

"  Well,  I  shall  run  the  risk,  for  hunger  is  quite  as  active 
just  now  as  curiosity  and  interest.  There  is  no  necessity, 
however,  for  your  exposing  yourself,  Sureflint;  do  you  stay 
behind,  and  wait  for  the  result.  If  I  am  detained,  you  can 
carry  the  news  to  Chainbearer,  who  will  know  where  to 
seek  me.  Stay  you  here,  and  let  me  go  on  alone — adieu." 

Sureflint  was  not  to  be  dropped  in  this  manner.  He  said 
nothing,  but  the  moment  I  began  to  move,  he  stepped  quietly 
into  his  accustomed  place,  in  advance,  and  led  the  way 
towards  the  party  of  squatters.  There  were  four  of  these 
men  at  work  in  the  river,  in  addition  to  two  stout  lads 
and  the  old  leader,  who,  as  I  afterwards  ascertained,  was 
very  generally  known  by  the  sobriquet  of  Thousandacres. 
The  last  remained  on  dry  land,  doubtless  imagining  that  his 
years,  and  his  long  services  in  the  cause  of  lawlessness  and 
social  disorganization,  entitled  him  to  this  small  advantage. 
The  evil  one  has  his  privileges,  as  well  as  the  public. 

The  first  intimation  our  hosts  received  of  this  unexpected 
visit,  came  from  the  cracking  of  a  dried  stick  on  which  I 
had  trodden.  The  Indian  was  not  quicker  to  interpret  and 
observe  that  well-known  sound,  than  the  old  squatter,  who 
turned  his  head  like  thought,  and  at  once  saw  the  Onondago 
within  a  rod  of  the  spot  where  he  himself  was  standing.  I 
was  close  on  the  Indian's  heels.  At  first,  neither  surprise 
nor  uneasiness  was  apparent  in  the  countenance  of  Thou 
sandacres.  He  knew  the  Trackless,  as  he  called  Susque- 
sus,  and,  though  this  was  the  first  visit  of  the  Indian,  at  that 
particular  '  location,'  they  had  often  met  in  a  similar  man 
ner  before,  and  invariably  with  as  little  preliminary  notice, 
So  far  from  any  thing  unpleasant  appearing  in  the  counte- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  223 

nance  of  the  squatter,  therefore,  Susquesus  was  greeted  with 
a  smile,  in  which  a  certain  leering  expression  of  cunning 
was  blended  with  that  of  welcome. 

"So  it's  only  you,  Trackless,"  exclaimed  Thousand- 
Acres,  or,  Thousandacres,  as  I  shall,  in  future,  spell  the 
name  —  "I  didn't  know  but  it  might  be  a  sheriff.  Sitch 
crittur's  do  get  out  into  the  woods,  sometimes,  you  know  ; 
though  they  don't  always  get  back  ag'in.  How  come  you 
to  find  us  out,  in  this  cunning  spot,  Onondago !" 

"  Hear  mill,  in  night. — Saw  got  loud  tongue.  Hungry  ; 
so  come  get  somet'ing  to  eat." 

"  Waal,  youv'e  done  wisely,  in  that  partic'lar,  for  we 
never  have  been  better  off  for  vi't'als.  Pigeons  is  as  plenty 
as  land ;  and  the  law  hasn't  got  to  that  pass,  yet,  as  to 
forbid  a  body  from  taking  pigeons,  even  though  it  be*  in  an 
other  man's  stubble.  I  must  keep  that  saw  better  greased, 
nights  ;  though,  I  s'p'ose,  a'ter  all,  't  was  the  cut  of  the 
teeth  you  heard,  and  not  the  rubbing  of  the  plate  ?" 

"  Hear  him  all — saw  got  loud  voice,  tell  you." 

"  Yes,  there 's  natur'  in  that.  Come,  we  '11  take  this 
path,  up  to  the  house,  and  see  what  Miss  Thousandacres  can 
do  for  you.  Breakfast  must  be  ready,  by  this  time  ;  and 
you,  and  your  fri'nd,  behind  you,  there,  is  wilcome  to  what 
we  have,  sitch  as  it  is.  Now,  as  we  go  along,"  continued 
the  squatter,  leading  the  way  up  the  path  he  had  mentioned 
— "  now,  as  we  go  along,  you  can  tell  me  the  news,  Track 
less.  This  is  a  desp'rate  quiet  spot ;  and  all  the  tidings  we 
get  is  brought  back  by  the  b'ys,  when  they  come  up  stream, 
from  floating  boards  down  into  the  river.  A  desp'rate  sight 
have  we  got  on  hand,  and  I  hope  to  hear  that  matters  be 
going  on  so  well,  in  Albany,  that  boards  will  bring  suthin', 
soon.  It 's  high  time  honest  labour  met  with  its  reward." 

"  Don't  know — nebber  sell  board,"  answered  the  Indian— 
"  nebber  buy  him.  Don't  care  for  board.  Powder  cheap, 
now  'e  war-path  shut  up.  Dat  good,  s'pose  you  t'ink." 

"  Waal,  Trackless,  I  kear  more  for  boards  than  for  pow 
der,  I  must  own  ;  though  powder  's  useful,  too.  Yes,  yes  ; 
a  useful  thing  is  powder,  in  its  way.  Venison  and  bear's 
meat  are  both  healthy,  cheap,  food ;  and  I  have  eaten  cata 
mount.  Powder  can  be  used  in  many  ways.  Who  is  your 
fri'nd,  Trackless  1" 


224 


THE    CH  AINBE  AKEK. 


"  Ole  young  frien' — know  his  fader.  Live  in  wood  now, 
IFke  us,  this  summer.  Shoot  deer  like  hunter." 

"  He 's  wilcome — he 's  heartily  wilcome  !  All 's  wilcome 
to  these  parts,  but  the  landlord.  You  know  me,  Trackless 
— you  're  well  acquainted  with  old  Thousandacres ;  and  few 
words  is  best,  among  fri'nds  of  long  standing.  But,  tell  me, 
Onondago ;  have  you  seen  anything  of  the  Chainbearer,  and 
his  party  of  lawless  surveyors,  in  the  woods,  this  summer  ? 
The  b'ys  brought  up  an  account  of  his  being  at  work,  some 
where  near  by,  this  season,  and  that  he  's  at  his  old  tricks, 
ag'in  !" 

"  Sartain,  see  him.  Ole  frien',  too,  Chainbearer.  Live 
wit'  him,  afore  old  French  war — like  to  live  with  him,  when 
can.  Good  man,  Chainbearer,  tell  you,  Thousandacres. 
What  trick  he  do,  eh  ?" 

The  Indian  spoke  a  little  sternly,  for  he  loved  Andries  too 
well,  to  hear  him  disrespectfully  named,  without  feeling 
some  sort  of  resentment.  These  men,  however,  were  too 
much  accustomed  to  plain  dealing  in  their  ordinary  dis 
course,  to  take  serious  offence  at  trifles ;  and  the  amicable 
sunshine  of  the  dialogue  received  no  serious  interruption 
from  this  passing  cloud. 

"  What  trick  does  Chainbearer  do,  Trackless,"  answered 
the  squatter — "  a  mortal  sight  of  tricks,  with  them  plaguy 
chains  of  his'n  !  If  there  warn't  no  chains  and  chainbear- 
ers,  there  could  be  no  surveyors  ;  and,  if  there  warn't  no 
surveyors,  there  could  be  no  boundaries  to  farms  but  the 
rifle ;  which  is  the  best  law-maker,  and  lawyer,  too,  that 
man  ever  invented.  The  Indians  want  no  surveyors, 
Trackless?" 

"  S'pose  he  don't.  It  be  bad  to  measure  land,  will  own," 
answered  the  conscientious  Susquesus,  who  would  not  deny 
his  own  principles,  even  while  he  despised  and  condemned 
the  man  who  now  asserted  them.  "  Nebber  see  anyt'ing 
good  in  measurin'  land." 

"Ay,  I  know'd  you  was  of  the  true  Injin  kidney!"  ex 
claimed  Thousandacres,  exultingly,  "  and  that 's  it  which 
makes  sich  fri'nds  of  us  squatters  and  you  red-skins.  But 
Chainbearer  is  at  work  hard  by,  is  he,  Trackless  ?" 

"Sartain.  He  measure  General  Littlepage  farm  out 
Who  your  landlord,  eh?" 


i'HE    CHAIN  BEARER.  2-5 

"  Waal,  I  do  s'pose  it 's  this  same  Littlepage,  and  a  des- 
p'rate  rogue  all  agree  in  callin'  him." 

I  started  at  hearing  my  honoured  and  honourable  father 
thus  alluded  to,  and  felt  a  strong  disposition  to  resent  the 
injury ;  though  a  glance  from  the  Indian's  eye  cautioned  me 
on  the  subject.  I  was  then  young,  and  had  yet  to  learn  that 
men  were  seldom  wronged  without  being  calumniated.  I 
now  know  that  this  practice  of  circulating  false  reports  of 
landlords,  most  especially  in  relation  to  their  titles,  is  very 
general,  taking  its  rise  in  the  hostile  positions  that  adven 
turers  are  constantly  assuming  on  their  estates,  in  a  country 
as  unsettled  and  migratory  as  our  own,  aided  by  the  common 
and  vulgar  passion  of  envy.  Let  a  man  travel  through 
New  York,  even  at  this  day,  and  lend  his  ear  to  the  language 
of  the  discontented  tavern-brawlers,  and  he  would  hardly 
believe  there  was  such  a  thing  as  a  good  title  to  an  estate  of 
any  magnitude  within  its  borders,  or  a  bad  one  to  the  farm 
of  any  occupant  in  possession.  There  is  among  us  a  set  of 
declaimers,  who  come  from  a  state  of  society  in  which  little 
distinction  exists  in  either  fortunes  or  social  conditions,  and 
who  are  incapable  of  even  seeing,  much  less  of  appreciating 
the  vast  differences  that  are  created  by  habits,  opinions,  and 
education,  but  who  reduce  all  moral  discrepancies  to  dollars 
and  cents.  These  men  invariably  quarrel  with  all  above 
them,  and,  with  them,  to  quarrel  is  to  calumniate.  Leaguing 
with  the  disaffected,  of  whom  there  always  must  be  some, 
especially  when  men  are  compelled  to  pay  their  debts,  one 
of  their  first  acts  is  to  assail  the  title  of  the  landlord,  when 
there  happens  to  be  one  in  their  neighbourhood,  by  lying  and 
slandering.  There  seems  to  be  no  exception  to  the  rule,  the 
practice  being  resorted  to  against  the  oldest  as  well  as  against 
the  most  recently  granted  estates  among  us.  The  lie  only 
varies  in  particulars ;  it  is  equally  used  against  the  titles  of 
the  old  families  of  Van  Rensselaer,  Livingston,  Beekman 
Van  Cortlandt,  de  Lancey,  Schuyler,  and  others,  as  against 
the  hundred  new  names  that  have  sprung  up  in  what  is 
called  the  western  counties,  since  the  revolution.  It  is  the 
lie  of  the  Father  of  Lies,  who  varies  it  to  suit  circumstances 
and  believers.  "  A  desp'rate  rogue,"  all  agree  in  calling  the 
man  who  owns  land  that  they  desire  to  possess  themselves, 


226  THE     CIIAINBE  AREK. 

without  being  put  to  the  unpleasant  trouble  of  purchasing 
and  paying  for  it. 

I  so  far  commanded  myself,  however,  as  to  make  no  retort 
for  the  injustice  done  my  upright,  beloved,  and  noble-minded 
father,  but  left  his  defence  to  the  friendly  feelings  and  sterling 
honesty  of  Sureflint. 

"  Not  so,"  answered  the  Indian  sternly.  "  Big  lie — forked 
tongue  tell  dat — know  gen'ral — sarve  wid  him — know  him. 
Good  warrior— honest  man — dat  lie.  Tell  him  so  to  face." 

"  Waal — wa-a-1 — I  don't  know,"  drawled  out  Mr.  Thou- 
sandacres :  how  those  rascals  will  "  wa-a-1"  and  "  I  don't 
know,"  when  they  are  cornered  in  one  of  their  traducing 
tales,  and  are  met  face  to  face,  as  the  Indian  now  met  the 
squatter !  "  Wa-a-l,  wa-a-1,  I  don't  know,  and  only  repeat 
what  I  have  heern  say.  But,  here  we  be  at  the  cabin, 
Trackless ;  and  I  see  by  the  smoke  that  old  Prudence  and 
her  gals  has  been  actyve  this  morning,  and  we  shall  soon  get 
suthin'  comfortable  for  the  stomach." 

Hereupon,  Mr.  Thousandacres  stopped  at  a  convenient 
place  by  the  side  of  the  stream,  and  commenced  washing 
his  face  and  hands ;  an  operation  that  was  now  performed 
for  the  first  time  that  day. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

**  He  stepped  before  the  monarch's  chair, 
And  stood  with  rustic  plainness  there, 

And  little  reverence  made ; 
Nor  head,  nor  body,  bowed  nor  bent, 
But  on  the  desk  his  arm  he  leant, 
And  words  like  these  he  said." 

Marmion. 

WHILE  the  squatter  was  thus  occupied  in  arranging  his 
toilet,  previously  to  taking  his  morning  meal,  I  had  a  mo 
ment  of  leisure  to  look  about  in.  We  had  ascended  to  the 
level  of  the  mill,  where  was  an  open,  half-cleared  space,  of 
some  sixty  acres  in  extent,  that  was  under  a  rude  cultiva- 


THE     CHAINBEARER. 

lion.  Stubs  and  stumps  abounded,  and  the  fences  were  of 
logs,  showing  that  the  occupancy  was  still  of  recent  date. 
In  fact,  as  I  afterwards  ascertained,  Thousandacres,  with 
his  family  of  hopeful  sons  and  daughters,  numbering  in  all 
more  than  twenty  souls,  had  squatted  at  that  spot  just  four 
years  before.  The  mill-seat  was  admirable,  nature  having 
done  for  it  nearly  all  that  was  required,  though  the  mill 
itself  was  as  unartificial  and  make-shift  as  such  a  construc 
tion  very  well  could  be.  Agriculture  evidently  occupied 
very  little  of  the  time  of  the  family,  which  tilled  just  enough 
land  "  to  make  a  live  on't,"  while  everything  in  the  shape 
of  lumber  was  "  improved"  to  the  utmost.  A  vast  number 
of  noble  pines  had  been  felled,  and  boards  and  shingles  were 
to  be  seen  in  profusion  on  every  side.  A  few  of  the  first 
were  being  sent  to  market,  in  order  to  meet  the  demands 
of  the  moment,  in  the  way  of  groceries ;  but,  the  intention 
was  to  wait  for  the  rise  in  the  little  stream,  after  the  fall- 
rains,  in  order  to  send  the  bulk  of  the  property  into  the 
common  artery  of  the  Hudson,  and  to  reap  the  great  reward 
of  the  toil  of  the  summer  and  spring. 

I  saw,  also,  that  there  must  be  additions  to  this  family,  in 
the  way  of  marriage,  as  they  occupied  no  less  than  five 
cabins,  all  of  which  were  of  logs,  freshly  erected,  and  had 
an  air  of  comfort  and  stability  about  them,  that  one  would 
not  have  expected  to  meet  where  the  title  was  so  flimsy. 
All  this,  as  I  fancied,  indicated  a  design  not  to  remove  very 
soon.  It  was  probable  that  some  of  the  oldest  of  the  sons 
and  daughters  were  married,  and  that  the  patriarch  was 
already  beholding  a  new  generation  of  squatters  springing  up 
about  him.  A  few  of  the  young  men  were  visible,  lounging 
about  the  different  cabins,  and  the  mill  was  sending  forth 
that  peculiar,  cutting,  grating  sound,  that  had  so  distinctly 
attracted  the  attention  of  Susquesus,  even  in  the  depths  of 
the  forest. 

"  Walk  in,  Trackless,"  cried  Thousandacres,  in  a  hearty 
free  manner,  which  proved  that  what  came  easily  went  as 
freely ;  "  walk  in,  fri'nd  ;  I  don't  know  your  name,  but 
that 's  no  great  matter,  where  there 's  enough  for  all,  and  a 
wilcome  in  the  bargain.  Here 's  the  old  woman,  ready  and 
willing  to  sarve  you,  and  looking  as  smiling  as  a  gal  of 
fifteen.*' 


228  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

The  last  part  of  this  statement,  however,  was  not  pre 
cisely  accurate.  "  Miss  Thousandacres,"  as  the  squatte? 
sometimes  magnificently  called  his  consort,  or  the  dam  of 
his  young  brood,  was  far  from  receiving  us  with  either 
smiles  or  welcomes.  A  sharp-featured,  keen,  grey-eyed  old 
woman,  her  thoughts  were  chiefly  bent  on  the  cares  of  her 
brood  :  and  her  charities  extended  little  beyond  them.  She 
had  been  the  mother  of  fourteen  children  herself,  twelve  of 
which  survived.  All  had  been  born  amid  the  difficulties, 
privations  and  solitudes  of  stolen  abodes  in  the  wilderne'ss. 
That  woman  had  endured  enough  to  break  down  the  consti 
tutions  and  to  destroy  the  tempers  of  half  a  dozen  of  the 
ordinary  beings  of  her  sex ;  yet  she  survived,  the  same  en 
during,  hard-working,  self-denying,  suffering  creature  she 
had  been  from  the  day  of  her  bloom  and  beauty.  These 
two  last  words  might  be  supposed  to  be  used  in  mockery, 
could  one  have  seen  old  Prudence,  sallow,  attenuated,  with 
sunken  cheeks,  hollow,  lack-lustre  eyes,  and  broken-mouth 
ed,  as  I  now  saw  her ;  but  there  were  the  remains  of  great 
beauty,  notwithstanding,  about  the  woman  ;  and  I  afterwards 
learned  that  she  had  once  been  among  the  fairest  of  the 
fair,  in  her  native  mountains.  In  all  the  intercourse  I  sub 
sequently  had  with  her  family,  the  manner  of  this  woman 
was  anxious,  distrustful,  watchful,  and  bore  a  strong  resem 
blance  to  that  of  the  dam  that  is  overseeing  the  welfare  of 
its  cubs.  As  to  her  welcome  at  the  board,  it  was  neither 
hearty  nor  otherwise ;  it  being  so  much  a  matter  of  course 
for  the  American  to  share  his  meal  with  the  stranger,  that 
little  is  said  or  thought  of  the  boon. 

Notwithstanding  the  size  of  the  family  of  Thousandacres, 
the  cabin  in  which  he  dwelt  was  not  crowded.  The  younger 
children  of  the  settlement,  ranging  between  the  ages  of  four 
and  twelve,  appeared  to  be  distributed  among  all  the  habi 
tations  indifferently,  putting  into  the  dishes  wherever  there 
was  an  opening,  much  as  pigs  thrust  themselves  in  at  any 
opening  at  a  trough.  The  business  of  eating  commenced 
simultaneously  throughout  the  whole  settlement,  Prudence 
having  blown  a  blast  upon  a  conch-shell,  as  the  signal.  I 
was  too  hungry  to  lose  any  time  in  discourse,  and  set  to, 
nrith  the  most  hearty  good  will,  upon  the  coarse  fare,  the 
moment  there  was  an  opportunity.  My  example  was  imi- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  22$ 

lated  by  all  around  our  own  particular  board,  it  being  the 
refined  and  intellectual  only,  who  habitually  converse  at 
their  meals.  The  animal  had  too  great  a  preponderance 
among  the  squatters,  to  leave  them  an  exception  to  the 
rule. 

At  length,  the  common  hunger  was  appeased,  and  I  could 
see  that  those  who  sat  around  began  to  examine  me  with  a 
little  more  curiosity  than  they  had  previously  manifested. 
There  was  nothing  in  the  fashion  of  my  attire  to  excite 
suspicion,  perhaps,  though  I  did  feel  some  little  concern  on 
account  of  its  quality.  In  that  day,  the  social  classes  were 
broadly  distinguished  by  dress,  no  man  even  affecting  to 
assume  the  wardrobe  of  a  gentleman,  without  having  cer 
tain  pretensions  to  the  character.  In  the  woods,  however, 
it  was  the  custom  to  throw  aside  every  thing  like  finery,  and 
I  wore  the  hunting-shirt  already  mentioned,  as  my  outer 
garment.  The  articles  most  likely  to  betray  my  station  in 
life  were  beneath  this  fortunate  covering,  and  might  escape 
observation.  Then  our  party  was  small,  consisting,  besides 
the  parents  and  the  two  guests,  of  only  one  young  man,  and 
one  young  woman,  of  about  the  ages  of  two  and  twenty  and 
sixteen,  whom  the  mother  addressed  as  Zephaniah  and 
Lowiny,  the  latter  being  one  of  the  very  common  American 
corruptions  of  some  fine  name  taken  from  a  book — Lavinia, 
quite  likely.*  These  two  young  persons  deported  them 
selves  with  great  modesty  at  the  table,  old  Thousandacres 
and  his  wife,  spite  of  their  lawless  lives,  having  maintained 
a  good  deal  of  the  ancient  puritan  discipline  among  their 
descendants,  in  relation  to  things  of  this  nature,  indeed,  I 

*  The  commoner  dialect  of  New  England  is  as  distinct  from  the 
language  of  the  rest  of  the  republic,  cases  of  New  England  descent 
excepted,  as  those  of  many  of  the  English  counties  are  from  that  of 
London.  One  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  former,  is  to  pronounce  the 
final  a  of  a  word?  like  y  ;  calling  America,  Ameriky ;  Utica,  TTtiky ; 
Ithaca,  Ithaky.  Thus,  Lavinia  would  be  very  apt  to  be  pronounced 
Lavinny,  Lavyny,  or  Lowiny.  As  there  is  a  marked  ambition  for 
fine  names,  the  effect  of  these  corruptions  on  a  practised  ear  is  some 
what  ludicrous.  The  rest  of  the  nation  is  quite  free  from  the  pecu 
liarity.  Foreigners  often  mistake  New  Englandisms  for  American, 
isms ;  the  energy,  importance,  and  prominency  of  the  people  of  the 
former  portion  of  the  country,  giving  them  an  influence  that  is  dis» 
proportioned  to  their  numbers. 
20 


S30  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

was  struck  with  the  singular  contrast  between  the  habitual 
attention  that  was  paid  by  all  in  the  settlement  to  certain 
appearances  of  the  sort,  and  that  certainty  which  every  one 
must  have  possessed  that  they  were  living  daily  in  the  com 
mission  of  offences  opposed  not  only  to  the  laws  of  the  land, 
but  to  the  common,  inherent  convictions  of  right.  In  this 
particular,  they  exhibited  what  is  often  found  in  life,  the 
remains  of  ancient  habits  and  principles,  existing  in  the 
shape  of  habits,  long  after  the  substance  that  had  produced 
them  had  disappeared. 

"  Have  you  asked  these  folks  about  Chainbearer  ?"  said 
Prudence  abrnptly,  as  soon  as  the  knives  and  forks  were 
laid  down,  and  while  we  still  continued  in  our  seats  at  the 
table.  "  I  feel  a  consarn  of  mind,  about  that  man,  that  I 
never  feel  about  any  other." 

"  Never  fear  Chainbearer,  woman,"  answered  the  hus 
band.  "  He 's  got  his  summer's  work  afore  him,  without 
coming  near  us.  By  the  last  accounts,  this  young  Little- 
page,  that  the  old  rogue  of  a  father  has  sent  into  the  coun 
try,  has  got  him  out  in  his  own  settlement ;  where  he  '11  be 
apt  to  keep  him,  I  calcerlate,  till  cold  weather  sets  in.  Let 
me  once  get  off  all  the  lumber  we've  cut,  and  sell  it,  and  I 
kear  very  little  about  Chainbearer,  or  his  master." 

"  This  is  bold  talk,  Aaron  ;  but  jist  remember  how  often 
we've  squatted,  and  how  often  we've  been  driven  to  m6ve. 
I  s'pose  I  'm  talking  afore  fri'nds,  in  sayin'  what  I  do." 

"  No  fear  of  any  here,  wife. — Trackless  is  an  old  ac 
quaintance,  and  has  as  little  relish  for  law-titles,  as  any  on 
us ;  and  his  fri'nd  is  our  fri'nd."  I  confess,  that  I  felt  a 
little  uncomfortable,  at  this  remark ;  but  the  squatter  going 
on  with  his  conversation,  there  was  no  opportunity  for  saying 
anything,  had  I  been  so  disposed. — "As  for  moving,"  con 
tinued  the  husband,  "  I  never  mov'd,  but  twice,  without 
getting  pay  for  my  betterments. — Now,  I  call  that  a  good 
business,  for  a  man  who  has  squatted  no  less*  than  seventeen 
times.  If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  we're  young 
enough  to  make  an  eighteenth  pitch.  So  that  I  save  the 
lumber,  I  kear  but  little  for  your  Littlepages,  or  Greatpages; 
the  mill  is  no  great  matter,  without  the  gear ;  and  that  has 
travelled  all  the  way  from  Varmount,  as  it  is,  and  is  used  to 
moving.  It  can  go  farther." 


•THE    CH  AINBEAUER.  231 

u  Yes,  but  the  lumber,  Aaron !  The  water 's  low,  now, 
and  you  can  never  get  it  to  market,  until  the  rivers  rise, 
which  mayn't  be  these  three  months.  Think  how  many 
days'  labour  that  lumber  has  cost  you,  and  all  on  us,  and 
what  a  sight  of  it  there  would  be  to  lose !" 

"  Yes,  but  we  wunt  lose  it,  woman,"  answered  Thousand- 
acres,  compressing  his  lips,  and  clenching  his  hands,  in  a 
way  to  show  how  intensely  he  felt  on  the  subject  of  property, 
himself,  however  dishonestly  acquired.  "  My  sweat  and 
labour  be  in  them  boards ;  and  it 's  as  good  as  sap,  any  day. 
What  a  man  sweats  for,  he  has  a  right  to." 

This  was  somewhat  loose  morality,  it  is  true,  since  a  man 
might  sweat  in  bearing  away  his  neighbour's  goods  ;  but  a 
portion  of  the  human  race  is  a  good  deal  disposed  to  feel 
and  reason  on  principles  but  little  more  sound  than  this  of 
old  Thousandacres. 

"  Wa-a-11,"  answered  the  woman,  "  I  'm  sure  I  don't 
want  to  see  you  and  the  b'ys  lose  the  fruits  of  your  labours  ; 
not  I.  You  've  honestly  toiled  and  wrought  at  'em  logs,  in 
a  way  I  never  seed  human  beings  outdo ;  and  't  would  be 
hard,"  looking  particularly  at  me,  "  now  that  they  've  cut 
the  trees,  hauled  'em  to  mill,  and  sawed  the  boards,  to  see 
another  man  step  in  and  claim  all  the  property.  That  could 
never  be  right,  but  is  ag'in  all  justice,  whether  Varmount 
or  York.  I  s'pose  there 's  no  great  harm  in  jist  askin'  what 
your  name  may  be,  young  man  ?" 

"  None  in  the  world,"  I  answered,  with  a  self-command 
that  I  could  see  delighted  the  Onondago.  "  My  name  is 
Mordaunt." 

"  Mordaunt !"  re'peated  the  woman,  quickly.  "  Don't  we 
know  suthin'  of  that  name? — Is  that  a  fri'ndly  name,  to  us 
Varmounters  ? — How  is  it,  Aaron  ?  you  ought  to  know." 

"  No,  I  hadn't  ought  to,  for  I  never  heerd  tell  of  any  sich 
name,  afore.  So  long  as  'tis  n's  Littlepage,  I  kear  nothin' 
about  it." 

I  felt  relieved  at  this  reply,  for  I  will  own,  that  the  idea 
of  falling  into  the  power  of  these  lawless  men  was  far  from 
pleasant  to  me.  From  Thousandacres,  down  to  the  lad 
of  seventeen,  they  all  stood  six  feet  in  their  stockings  ;  and 
a  stouter,  more  broad-shouldered,  sinewy  race,  was  not 
often  seen.  The  idea  of  resisting  them  by  force,  was  out 


4  - 

232  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

of  the  question.  I  was  entirely  without  arms ;  though  the 
Indian  was  better  provided ;  but  no  less  than  four  rifles 
were  laid  on  brackets  in  this  one  cabin ;  and  I  made  no 
doubt  that  every  male  of  the  family  had  his  own  particular 
weapon.  The  rifle  was  the  first  necessary,  of  men  of  this 
stamp,  being  as  serviceable  in  procuring  food,  as  in  protect 
ing  them  from  their  enemies. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  Prudence  drew  a  long  sigh, 
and  rose  from  table  in  order  to  renew  her  domestic  labours. 
Lowiny  followed  her  motions  in  submissive  silence,  and  we 
men  sauntered  to  the  door  of  the  cabin,  where  I  could  get  a 
new  view  of  the  nature  of  those  "  betterments"  that  Thou- 
sandacres  so  highly  prized,  and  of  the  extent  of  the  depre 
dations  that  had  been  committed  on  colonel  Follock  and  my 
father.  The  last  were  by  no  means  insignificant ;  and,  at 
a  later  day,  they  were  estimated,  by  competent  judges,  to 
amount  to  fully  a  thousand  dollars  in  value.  Of  course 
these  were  a  thousand  dollars  totally  lost,  inasmuch  as  re 
dress,  in  a  pecuniary  sense,  was  entirely  out  of  the  question 
with  men  of  the  stamp  of  Thousandacres  and  his  sons. 
This  class  of  persons  are  fond  of  saying,  "  I  '11  guarantee," 
and  '« I  '11  bind  myself"  to  do  this  or  that ;  but  the  guaranty 
and  obligation  are  equally  without  value.  In  fact,  those 
who  are  the  least  responsible  are  usually  the  freest  with 
such  pledges. 

"  This  is  a  handsome  spot,"  said  Thousandacres,  whose 
real  name  was  Aaron  Timberman.  "  This  is  a  handsome 
spot,  Mr.  Mordaunt,  and  one  it  would  go  kind  o'  hard  to 
give  it  up  at  the  biddin'  of  a  man  who  never  laid  eye  on 't. 
Be  you  any  way  acquainted  with  law?" 

"  A  very  little ;  no  more  than  we  all  get  to  be  as  we 
move  along  through  life." 

"  You  've  not  travelled  far  on  that  journey,  young  man, 
as  any  one  can  see  by  your  face.  But  you  've  had  oppor 
tunities,  as  a  body  can  tell  by  your  speech,  which  isn't  ex 
actly  like  our'n,  out  here  in  the  woods,  from  which  I  had 
kind  o'  thought  your  schoolin'  might  be  more  than  common. 
A  body  can  tell,  though  his  own  1'arnin'  amounts  to  no  great 
matter." 

This  notion  of  Aaron's,  that  my  modes  of  speech,  pro 
nunciation,  accent  and  utterance  had  come  from  the  schools, 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  233 

was  natural  enough,  perhaps ;  though  few  persons  ever  ac 
quire  accuracy  in  either,  except  in  the  familiar  intercourse 
of  their  childhood.  As  for  the  "common  schools"  of  New 
York,  they  are  perpetuating  errors  in  these  respects,  rather 
than  correcting  them ;  and  one  of  the  largest  steps  in  their 
improvement  would  be  to  have  a  care  that  he  who  teaches, 
teaches  accurately  as  to  sounds,  as  well  as  to  significations. 
Under  the  present  system,  vicious  habits  are  confirmed  by 
deliberate  instruction  and  example,  rather  than  corrected. 

"  My  schooling,"  I  answered,  modestly  enough,  I  trust, 
"  has  been  a  little  better  than  common,  though  it  has  not 
been  good  enough,  as  you  see,  to  keep  me  out  of  the  woods." 

"  All  that  may  be  inclination.  Some  folks  have  a  nat'ral 
turn  for  the  wilderness,  and  it 's  workin'  ag'in  the  grain, 
and  nearly  useless,  to  try  to  make  settlement-bodies  of  'em. 
D  'ye  happen  to  know  what  lumber  is  likely  to  bring  this 
fall?" 

"  Everything  is  looking  up  since  the  peace,  and  it  is  fair 
to  expect  lumber  will  begin  to  command  a  price,  as  well  as 
other  property." 

"  Wa-a-1,  it 's  time  it  should  !  During  the  whull  war  a 
board  has  been  of  little  more  account  than  a  strip  of  bark, 
unless  it  happened  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  an  army. 
We  lumbermen  have  had  an  awful  time  on  it  these  last  eight 
years,  and  more  than  once  I  've  felt  tempted  to  gi'n  in,  and 
go  and  settle  down  in  some  clearin',  like  quieter  folks ;  but 
I  thought,  as  the  'arth  is  to  come  to  an  eend,  the  war  must 
sartainly  come  to  an  eend  afore  it." 

"  The  calculation  was  a  pretty  safe  one ;  the  war  must 
have  truly  made  a  dull  time  for  you  ;  nor  do  I  see  how  you 
well  got  along  during  the  period  it  lasted." 

"  Bad  enough ;  though  war-times  has  their  wind-falls  as 
well  as  peace-times.  Once,  the  inimy  seized  a  sight  of  con 
tinental  stores,  sich  as  pork,  and  flour,  and  New  England 
rum,  and  they  pressed  all  the  teams,  far  and  near,  to  carry 
off  their  plunder,  and  my  sleigh  and  horses  had  to  go  along 
with  the  rest  on  'em.  Waal,  go  we  did ;  and  I  got  as 
handsome  a  load  as  ever  you  seed  laid  in  a  lumber-sleigh  ; 
what  I  call  an  assortment,  and  one,  too,  that  was  mightily 
to  my  own  likin',  seein'  I  loaded  it  up  with  my  own  hands. 
*T  was  in  a  woody  country,  as  you  may  s'pose,  or  I  wouldn't 
20* 


234  THE    CHAINBEA11ER. 

have  been  there ;  and,  as  I  know'd  all  the  by-roads,  I  watched 
my  chance,  and  got  out  of  the  line  without  bein'  seen,  and 
druv'  as  straight  up  to  my  own  hum'  as  if  I  'd  just  come 
from  tradin'  in  the  nearest  settlement.  That  was  the  most 
profitablest  journey  I  ever  tuck,  and,  what  is  more,  it  was  a 
short  one." 

Here  old  Thousandacres  stopped  to  laugh,  which  he  did 
in  as  hearty,  frank  a  manner  as  if  his  conscience  had  never 
known  care.  This  story,  I  fancy,  was  a  favourite  with  him, 
for  I  heard  no  less  than  three  other  allusions  to  the  exploit 
on  which  it  was  based,  during  the  short  time  our  communi 
cation  with  each  other  lasted.  I  observed  the  first  smile  I 
had  seen  on  the  face  of  Zephaniah,  appear  at  the  recital  of 
this  anecdote ;  though  I  had  not  failed  to  notice  that  the 
young  man,  as  fine  a  specimen  of  rustic,  rude,  manly  pro 
portions  as  one  could  wish  to  see,  had  kept  his  eyes  on  me 
at  every  occasion,  in  a  manner  that  excited  some  uneasi 
ness. 

"  That  was  a  fortunate  service  for  you,"  I  remarked,  as 
soon  as  Aaron  had  had  his  laugh  ;  "  unless,  indeed,  you  felt 
the  necessity  of  giving  back  the  property  to  the  continental 
officers." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  Congress  was  poor  enough,  I  'm  willin' 
to  own,  but  it  was  richer  than  I  was,  or  ever  will  be.  When 
property  has  changed  hands  once,  title  goes  with  it ;  and 
some  say  that  these  very  lands,  coming  from  the  king,  ought 
now  to  go  to  the  people,  jist  as  folks  happen  to  want  'em. 
Therp  's  reason  and  right,  I  'm  sartain,  in  the  idee,  and  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  it  held  good  in  law,  one  day !" 

Alas  !  alas  !  for  poor  human  nature  again.  Seldom  does 
man  commit  a  wrong  but  he  sets  his  ingenuity  to  work  to 
frame  excuses  for  it.  When  his  mind  thus  gets  to  be  per 
verted  by  the  influence  of  his  passions,  and  more  especially 
by  that  of  rapacity,  he  never  fails  to  fancy  new  principles 
to  exist  to  favour  his  schemes,  and  manifests  a  readiness  in 
inventing  them,  which,  enlisted  on  the  side  of  goodness, 
might  render  him  a  blessing  instead  of  a  curse  to  his  race. 
But  roguery  is  so  active,  while  virtue  is  so  apt  to  be  passive, 
that  in  the  eternal  conflict  that  is  waged  between  them,  that 
which  is  gained  by  the  truth  and  inherent  power  of  the  last 
is  half  the  time,  more  than  neutralized  by  the  unwearied 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  235 

exertions  of  the  first !  This,  I  fear,  may  be  found  to  con 
tain  the  weak  spot  of  our  institutions.  So  long  as  law  re 
presents  the  authority  of  an  individual,  individual  pride  and 
jealousy  may  stimulate  it  to  constant  watchfulness ;  whereas, 
law  representing  the  community,  carries  with  it  a  divided 
responsibility,  that  needs  the  excitement  of  intolerable  abuses 
ere  it  will  arouse  itself  in  its  own  vindication.  The  result 
is  merely  another  proof  that,  in  the  management  of  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  life,  men  are  usually  found  to  be  stronger 
than  principles. 

"  Have  you  ever  had  occasion  to  try  one  of  your  titles  of 
possession  in  a  court  of  law,  against  that  of  a  landholder 
who  got  his  right  from  a  grant?"  I  asked,  after  reflecting  a 
moment  on  the  truth  I  have  just  narrated. 

Thousandacres  shook  his  head,  looked  down  a  moment, 
and  pondered  a  little,  in  his  turn,  ere  he  gave  me  the  fol 
lowing  answer  : 

"  Sartain,"  he  said.  "  We  all  like  to  be  on  the  right 
side,  if  we  can ;  and  some  of  our  folks  kind  o'  persuaded 
me  I  might  make  out,  once,  ag'in  a  reg'lar  landlord.  So  I 
stood  trial  with  him ;  but  he  beat  me,  Mr.  Mordaunt,  just 
the  same  as  if  I  had  been  a  chicken,  and  he  the  hawk  that 
had  me  in  his  talons.  You  '11  never  catch  me  trusting  my 
self  in  the  claws  of  the  law  ag'in,  though  that  happened  as 
long  ago  as  afore  the  old  French  war.  I  shall  never  trust 
to  law  any  more.  It  may  do  for  them  that  Js  rich,  and 
don't  kear  whether  they  win  or  lose ;  but  law  is  a  desp'rate 
bad  business  for  them  that  hasn't  got  money  to  go  into  it, 
right  eend  foremost." 

"And,  should  Mr.  Littlepage  discover  your  being  here, 
and  feel  disposed  to  come  to  some  arrangement  with  you, 
what  conditions  would  you  be  apt  to  accept  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I  'm  never  ag'in  trade.  Trade 's  the  spirit  of  life ; 
and  seein'  that  gin'ral  Littlepage  has  some  right,  as  I  do 
s'pose  is  the  case,  I  shouldn't  want  to  be  hard  on  him.  If 
he  would  keep  things  quiet,  and  not  make  a  fuss  about  it, 
but  would  leave  the  matter  out  to  men,  and  they  men  of  the 
right  sort,  I  shouldn't  be  difficult ;  for  I  'm  one  of  that  kind 
that  hates  law-suits,  and  am  always  ready  to  do  the  right 
thing ;  and  so  he  'd  find  me  as  ready  to  settle  as  any  man 
he  ever  had  on  his  lands." 


236  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"But  on  what  terms?  You  have  no  told  me  the 
terms." 

"As  to  tarms,  I  'd  not  be  hard,  by  any  means.  No  man 
can  say  old  Thousandacres  ever  druv'  hard  tarms,  when 
he  had  the  best  on't.  That 's  not  in  my  natur',  which  runs 
altogether  towards  reason  and  what 's  right.  Now  you  see, 
Mordaunt,  how  matters  stand  atween  this  Littlepage  and 
myself.  He 's  got  a  paper  title,  they  tell  me,  and  I  've  got 
possession,  which  is  always  a  squatter's  claim ;  and  a  good 
one  'tis,  where  there 's  plenty  of  pine  and  a  mill-seat,  with  a 
handy  market !" 

Here  Thousandacres  stopped  to  laugh  again,  for  he 
generally  indulged  in  this  way,  in  so  hearty  and  deep  a 
tone,  as  to  render  it  difficult  to  laugh  and  talk  in  the  same 
breath.  As  soon  as  through,  however,  he  did  not  forget  to 
pursue  the  discourse. 

"  No,  no  man  that  understands  the  woods  will  gainsay 
them  advantages,"  added  the  squatter;  "and  of  all  on  'em 
am  I  now  in  the  enj'yment.  Wa-a-1,  gin'ral  Littlepage,  as 
they  call  him  about  here,  has  a  paper  title ;  and  I  've  got 
possession.  He  has  the  courts  on  his  side,  I  '11  allow  ;  but 
here  are  my  betterments — sixty-three  as  large  acres  chopped 
over  and  hauled  to  mill,  as  can  be  found  in  all  Charlotte, 
or  Washington,  as  they  tell  me  the  county  is  now  called." 

"  But  general  Littlepage  may  not  fancy  it  an  improve 
ment  to  have  his  land  stripped  of  its  pine.  You  know, 
Thousandacres,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  pine  is  usually  thought 
to  greatly  add  to  the  value  of  land  hereabouts,  the  Hudson 
making  it  so  easy  to  get  it  to  market." 

"  Lord  !  youngster,  do  you  think  I  hadn't  all  that  in  my 
mind,  when  I  made  my  pitch  here  1  You  can't  teach  old 
bones  where  it 's  best  to  strike  the  first  blow  with  an  axe. 
Now,  I  've  got  in  the  creek,"  (this  word  is  used,  in  the  par 
lance  of  the  State,  for  a  small  river,  nine  times  in  ten) ; 
"  now,  I  've  got  in  the  creek,  on  the  way  to  the  Hudson,  in 
the  booms  below  the  mill,  and  in  the  mill-yard  yonder,  a 
hundred  and  twenty  thousand  feet  of  as  handsome  stuff  as 
ever  was  cribbed,  or  rafted;  and  there's,  logs  enough  cut 
and  hauled  to  make  more  than  as  much  more.  I  some  sort 
o'  think  you  know  this  Littlepage,  by  your  talk ;  and,  as  I 
like  fair  dealin's,  and  what 's  right  atween  man  and  man, 


THE     CHAIN  BEARER.  237 

I  '11  just  tell  you  what  I  '11  do,  so  that  you  can  tell  him,  if 
you  ever  meet,  and  the  matter  should  come  up  atween  you, 
as  sich  things  sometimes  do,  all  in  talk  like,  though  a  body 
has  no  real  consarn  in  the  affair  j  and  so  you  can  tell  this 
gin'ral  that  old  Thousandacres  is  a  reasonable  man,  and  is 
willing  to  settle  on  these  tarms ;  but  he  won't  gi'n  a  grain 
more.  If  the  gin'ral  will  let  me  get  all  the  lumber  to  mar 
ket  peaceably,  and  take  off  the  crops  the  b'ys  have  put  in 
with  their  own  hands,  and  carry  off  all  the  mill-gear,  and 
take  down  the  doors  and  windows  of  the  houses,  and  all  the 
iron- work  a  body  can  find  about,  I  'm  willing  to  agree  to 
quit  'arly  enough  in  the  spring  to  let  any  man  he  chooses 
come  into  possession  in  good  season  to  get  in  spring  grain, 
and  make  garden.  There ;  them 's  my  tarms,  and  I  '11  not 
abate  on  one  on  'em,  on  no  account  at  all.  But  that  much 
I  '11  do  for  peace ;  for  I  do  love  peace  and  quiet,  my  woman 
says,  most  desp'ately." 

I  was  about  to  answer  this  characteristic  communication 
— perfectly  characteristic  as  to  feelings,  one-sided  sense  of 
right,  principles  and  language — when  Zephaniah,  the  tall 
son  of  the  squatter,  suddenly  laid  a  hand  on  his  father's 
arm,  and  led  him  aside.  This  young  man  had  been  ex 
amining  my  person,  during  the  whole  of  the  dialogue  at  the 
door  of  the  cabin,  in  a  way  that  was  a  little  marked.  I 
was  disposed  at  first  to  attribute  these  attentions  to  the 
curiosity  natural  to  youth,  at  its  first  meeting  with  one  who 
might  be  supposed  to  enjoy  opportunities  of  ascertaining  the 
newest  modes  of  dress  and  deportment.  Rustics,  in  Ameri 
ca,  ever  manifest  this  feeling,  and  it  was  not  unreasonable 
to  suppose  that  this  young  squatter  might  have  felt  its  in 
fluence.  But,  as  it  soon  appeared,  I  had  altogether  mis 
taken  my  man.  Although  both  he  and  his  sister,  Lowiny, 
had  never  turned  their  eyes  from  my  person,  I  soon  dis 
covered  that  they  had  been  governed  by  totally  opposing 
feelings. 

The  first  intimation  I  got  of  the  nature  of  the  mistake 
into  which  I  had  fallen,  was  from  the  manner  of  Thousand- 
acres,  as  soon  as  his  son  had  spoken  to  him,  apart,  for  a 
single  minute.  I  observed  that,  the  old  squatter  turned  sud 
denly,  and  began  to  scrutinize  my  appearance  with  a  scowl 
ing,  but  sharp  eye.  Then  he  would  give  all  his  attention 


238  THE    CIIAINBEARER. 

to  his  son ;  after  which,  I  came  in  for  a  new  turn  of  ex 
amination.  Of  course,  such  a  scene  could  not  last  a  great 
while,  and  I  soon  felt  the  relief  of  being,  again,  face  to  face 
with  the  man  whom  I  now  set  down  for  an  enemy. 

"  Harkee,  young  man,"  resumed  Thousandacres,  as  soon 
as  he  had  returned  and  placed  himself  directly  before  me, 
"  my  b'y,  Zeph,  there,  has  got  a  suspicion  consarning  you, 
that  must  be  cleared  up,  fairly  a-tween  us,  afore  we  part. 
I  like  fair  dealin's,  as  I've  told  you  more  than  once,  already, 
and  despise  underhandedness  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart. 
Zeph  tells  me  that  he  has  a  kind  o'  suspicion  that  you  're 
the  son  of  this  very  Littlepage,  and  have  been  sent  among 
us  to  spy  us  out,  and  to  1'arn  how  things  stood,  afore  you  let 
on  your  evil  intentions.  Is  it  so,  or  not  ?" 

"What  reason  has  Zeph  for  such  a  suspicion?"  I  an 
swered,  with  as  much  coolness  as  I  could  assume.  "  He  is 
a  perfect  stranger  to  me,  and  I  fancy  this  is  the  first  time 
we  have  ever  met." 

"  He  agrees  to  that,  himself;  but  mankind  can  sometimes 
see  things  that  isn't  put  directly  afore  their  eyes.  My  son 
goes  and  comes,  frequently,  between  the  Ravensnest  settle 
ment  and  our  own,  though  I  don't  suppose  he  lets  on  any 
great  deal  about  his  proper  hum' — He  has  worked  as  much 
as  two  months,  at  a  time,  in  that  part  of  the  country,  and  I 
find  him  useful  in  carrying  on  a  little  trade,  once  and  awhile, 
with  'squire  Newcome." 

"  You  are  acquainted,  then,  with  Mr«  Jason  Newcome,  or 
'squire  Newcome,  as  you  call  him  ?" 

"  I  call  him  what 's  right,  I  hope !"  answered  the  old  man 
sharply.  "  He  is  a  'Squire,  and  should  be  called  a  'Squire. 
Give  the  devil  his  due  ;  that 's  my  principle.  But  Zepha- 
niah  has  been  out  a  considerable  spell  this  summer  to  work 
at  Ravensnest.  I  tell  him  he  has  a  gal  in  his  eye,  by  his 
hankering  so  much  after  the  'Nest  folks,  but  he  won't  own 
it :  but  out  he  has  been,  and  he  tells  me  this  Littlepage's 
son  was  expected  to  come  into  the  settlement  about  the  time 
he  last  left  there." 

"And  you  are  acquainted  with  'Squire  Newcome?"  I  said, 
pursuing  the  subject  as  its  points  presented  themselves  to  my 
own  mind,  rather  than  following  the  thread  of  the  squatter's 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  239 

discursive  manner  of  thinking ;  "  so  well  acquainted  as  to 
trade  with  him  7" 

"  Sartain  ;  well  acquainted  I  may  say.  The  'Squire  tuck 
(took)  all  the  lumber  I  cut  'arly  in  the  spring,  rafting  and 
selling  it  on  his  own  account,  paying  us  in  groceries,  womans* 
cloth,  and  rum.  He  made  a  good  job  of  it,  I  hear  tell,  and 
is  hankerin'  round  a'ter  what  is  now  in  the  creek ;  but  I 
rather  think  I  '11  send  the  b'ys  off  with  that.  But  what 's 
that  to  the  purpose  ?  Didn't  you  tell  me,  young  man,  that 
your  name  is  Mordaunt  ?" 

"  I  did ;  and  in  so  saying  I  told  no  more  than  the  truth." 

"  And  what  may  you  call  your  given  name  1  A'ter  all, 
old  woman,"  turning  to  the  anxious  wife  and  mother,  who 
had  drawn  near  to  listen,  having  most  probably  been  made 
acquainted  with  the  nature  of  her  son's  suspicions — "  a'ter 
all  the  b'y  may  be  mistaken,  and  this  young  man  as  inno 
cent  as  any  one  of  your  own  flesh  and  blood." 

"  Mordaunt  is  what  you  call  my '  given  name,'  I  answered, 
disdaining  deception,  "  and  Littlepage — "  The  hand  of  the 
Indian  was  suddenly  placed  on  my  mouth,  stopping  further 
utterance. 

It  was  too  late,  however,  for  the  friendly  design  of  the 
Onondago,  the  squatters  readily  comprehending  all  I  had 
intended  to  say.  As  for  Prudence,  she  walked  away ;  and 
I  soon  heard  her  calling  all  her  younger  children  by  name, 
to  collect  them  near  her  person,  as  the  hen  gathers  its 
chickens  beneath  the  wing.  Thousandacres  took  the  matter 
very  differently.  His  countenance  grew  dark,  and  he  whis 
pered  a  word  to  Lowiny,  who  departed  on  some  errand 
with  reluctant  steps,  as  I  thought,  and  eyes  that  did  not 
always  look  in  the  direction  she  was  walking. 

"  I  see  how  it  is ! — I  see  how  it  is  !"  exclaimed  the  squatter, 
with  as  much  of  suppressed  indignation  in  his  voice  and 
mien  as  if  his  cause  were  that  of  offended  innocence ;  "  we've 
got  a  spy  among  us,  and  war-time  's  too  fresh  not  to  let  us 
know  how  to  deal  with  sich  folks.  Young  man,  what 's  your 
arr'n'd  down  here,  in  my  betterments,  and  beneath  my  ruff?" 

"  My  errand  as  you  call  it,  Thousandacres,  is  to  look 
after  the  property  that  is  entrusted  to  my  care.  I  am  the 
son  of  General  Littlepage,  one  of  the  owners  of  this  spot, 
and  the  attorney  of  both." 


240  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

"  Oh !  an  attorney  be  you  !"  cried  the  squatter,  mistaking 
the  attorney  in  fact  for  an  attorney  at  law — a  sort  of  being 
for  whom  he  necessarily  entertained  a  professional  antipathy. 
"  I  '11  attorney  ye !  If  you  or  your  gin'rai  father  thinks 
that  Aaron  Thousandacres  is  a  man  to  have  his  territories 
invaded  by  the  inimy,  and  keep  his  hands  in  his  pockets  the 
whull  time,  he 's  mistaken.  Send  'em  along,  Lawiny,  send 
along  the  b'ys,  and  let 's  see  if  we  can't  find  lodgin's  for 
this  young  attorney  gin'rai,  as  well  as  board." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  aspect  of  things  now.  Hos 
tilities  had  commenced  in  a  certain  sense,  and  it  became 
incumbent  on  me  for  the  sake  of  safety  to  be  on  the  alert. 
I  knew  that  the  Indian  was  armed ;  and,  determined  to  defend 
my  person  if  possible,  I  was  resolved  to  avail  myself  of  the 
use  of  his  weapon  should  it  become  necessary.  Stretching 
out  an  arm,  and  turning  to  the  spot  where  Susquesus  had 
just  stood,  to  lay  hold  of  his  rifle,  I  discovered  that  he  had 
disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 

"The  lawless  herd,  with  fury  blind, 
Have  done  him  cruel  wrong ; 
The  flowers  are  gone,  but  still  we  find, 
The  honey  on  his  tongue." 

COWPER. 

THERE  I  stood,  alone  and  unarmed,  in  the  centre  of  six 
athletic  men,  for  Lowiny  had  been  sent  to  assemble  her 
brothers ;  a  business  in  which  she  was  aided  by  Prudence's 
blowing  a  peculiar  sort  of  blast  on  her  conch ;  and,  as  un 
able  to  resist,  as  a  child  would  have  been  in  the  hands  of  its 
parent.  As  a  fruitless  scuffle  would  have  been  degrading, 
as  well  as  useless,  I  at  once  determined  to  submit,  tempo 
rarily  at  least,  or  so  long  as  submission  did  not  infer  dis 
grace,  and  was  better  than  resistance.  There  did  not  seem 
to  be  any  immediate  disposition  to  lay  violent  hands  on  me, 
however,  and  there  I  stood,  a  minute  or  two,  after  I  had 
missed  Sureflint,  surrounded  by  the  whole  brood  of  the 


THECHAINBEARER.  241 

squatter,  young  and  old,  male  and  female ;  some  looking 
defiance,  others  troubled,  and  all  anxious.  As  for  myself 
I  will  frankly  own  my  sensations  were  far  from  pleasant ; 
for  I  knew  *I  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Philistines,  in  the 
depths  of  a  forest,  fully  twenty  miles  from  any  settlement, 
and  with  no  friends  nearer  than  the  party  of  the  Chain- 
bearer,  who  was  at  least  two  leagues  distant,  and  altogether 
ignorant  of  my  position  as  well  as  of  my  necessities.  A 
ray  of  hope,  however,  gleamed  in  upon  me  through  the  pro 
bable  agency  of  the  Onondago. 

Not  for  an  instant  did  I  imagine  that  long-known  and  well- 
tried  friend  of  my  father  and  the  Chainbearer  false.  His 
character  was  too  well  established  for  that;  and  it  soon 
occurred  to  me,  that,  foreseeing  his  own  probable  detention 
should  he  remain,  he  had  vanished  with  a  design  to  let  the 
strait  in  which  I  was  placed  be  known,  and  to  lead  a  party 
to  my  rescue.  A  similar  idea  probably  struck  Thousand- 
acres  almost  at  the  same  instant ;  for,  glancing  his  eye 
around  him,  he  suddenly  demanded — 

"  What  has  become  of  the  red-skin  ?  The  varmint  has 
dodged  away,  as  I  'm  an  honest  man  !  Nathaniel,  Moses, 
and  Daniel,  to  your  rifles  and  on  the  trail.  Bring  the  fellow 
in,  if  you  can,  with  a  whull  skin ;  but  if  you  can't,  an  Injin 
more  or  less  will  never  be  heeded  in  the  woods." 

I  soon  had  occasion  to  note  that  the  patriarchal  govern 
ment  of  Thousandacres  was  of  a  somewhat  decided  and 
prompt  character.  A  few  words  went  a  great  ways  in  it, 
as  was  now  apparent ;  for  in  less  than  two  minutes  after 
Aaron  had  issued  his  decree,  those  namesakes  of  the  pro 
phets  and  lawgivers  of  old,  Nathaniel,  and  Moses,  and 
Daniel,  were  quitting  the  clearing  on  diverging  lines,  each 
carrying  a  formidable,  long,  American  hunting-rifle  in  his 
hand.  This  weapon,  so  different  in  the  degree  erf  its  power 
from  the  short  military  piece  that  has-  become  known  to 
modern  warfare,  was  certainly  in  dangerous  hands ;  for 
each  of  those  young  men  had  been  familiar  with  his  rifle 
from  boyhood  ;  gunpowder  and  liquor,  with  a  little  lead, 
composing  nearly  all  the  articles  on  which  they  lavished 
money  for  their  amusement.  I  trembled  for  Susquesus; 
though  I  knew  he  must  anticipate  a  pursuit,  and  was  so 
well  skilled  in  throwing  off*  a  chase  as  to  have  obtained  the 
21 


242  THE     CHAINBEAKER. 

name  of  the  Trackless.  Still,  the  odds  were  against  him  ; 
and  experience  has  shown  that  the  white  man  usually  sur 
passes  the  Indian  even  in  his  own  peculiar  practices,  when 
there  have  been  opportunities  to  be  taught.  I  could  do  no 
more,  however,  than  utter  a  mental  prayer  for  the  escape 
of  my  friend. 

"  Bring  that  chap  in  here,"  added  old  Thousandacres 
sternly,  the  moment  he  saw  that  his  three  sons  were  off; 
enough  remaining  to  enforce  that  or  any  other  order  he 
might  choose  to  issue.  "  Bring  him  into  this  room,  and  let 
us  hold  a  court  on  him,  sin'  he  is  sich  a  lover  of  the  law. 
If  law  he  likes,  law  let  him  have.  An  attorney  is  he  ?  I 
warnt  to  know !  What  has  an  attorney  to  do  with  me  and 
mine,  out  here  in  the  woods  ?" 

While  this  was  in  the  course  of  being  said,  the  squatter, 
and  father  of  squatters,  led  the  way  into  his  own  cabin, 
where  he  seated  himself  with  an  air  of  authority,  causing 
the  females  and  younger  males  of  his  brood  to  range  them 
selves  in  a  circle  behind  his  chair.  Seeing  the  folly  of  re 
sistance,  at  a  hint  from  Zephaniah  I  followed,  the  three 
young  men  occupying  the  place  near  the  door,  as  a  species 
of  guard.  In  this  manner  we  formed  a  sort  of  court,  in 
which  the  old  fellow  figured  as  the  investigating  magistrate, 
and  I  figured  as  the  criminal. 

"  An  attorney,  be  you  !"  muttered  Thousandacres,  whose 
ire  against  me  in  my  supposed,  would  seem  to  be  more  ex 
cited  than  it  was  against  me  in  my  real  character.  "  B'ys, 
silence  in  the  court ;  we  '11  give  this  chap  as  much  law  as 
he  can  stagger  under,  sin'  he 's  of  a  law  natur'.  Everything 
shall  be  done  accordin'  to  rule.  Tobit,"  addressing  his  oldest 
son,  a  colossal  figure  of  about  six-and-twenty,  '«  you  've  been 
in  the  law  more  than  any  on  us,  and  can  give  us  the  word. 
What  was 't  they  did  with  you,  first,  when  they  had  you  up 
in  Hampshire  colony ;  the  time  when  you  and  that  other 
young  man  went  across  from  the  Varmount  settlements  to 
look  for  sheep  ?  A  raft  of  the  crittur's  you  did  get  atween 
you,  though  you  was  waylaid  and  robbed  of  all  your  hard 
'arnin's,  afore  you  got  back  ag'in  in  the  mountains.  They 
dealt  with  you  accordin'  to  law,  'twas  said ;  now,  what  was 
the  first  thing  done  ?" 

"  I  was  tuck  [taken]  afore  the  'squire,"  answered  Tobit 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  243 

Thousandacres,  as  he  was  often  called,  "who  heerd  the 
case,  asked  me  what  I  had  to  say  for  myself,  and  then  per 
mitted  me,  as  it  was  tarmed ;  so  I  went  to  gaol  until  the 
trial  came  on,  and  I  s'pose  you  know  what  come  next,  as 
well  as  I  do." 

I  took  it  for  granted  that  what  "come  next"  was  any 
thing  but  pleasant  in  remembrance,  the  reason  Tobit  did 
not  relish  it  even  in  description,  inasmuch  as  sheep-stealers 
were  very  apt  to  get  "  forty  save  one"  at  the  whipping-post, 
in  that  day,  a  species  of  punishment  that  was  admirably 
adapted  to  the  particular  offence.  We  are  getting  among 
us  a  set  ofsoi-disant  philanthropists,  who,  in  their  great  de 
sire  to  coddle  and  reform  rogues,  are  fast  placing  the  pun- 
nishment  of  offences  on  the  honest  portion  of  the  community, 
for  the  especial  benefit  of  their  eleves.  Some  of  these  per 
sons  have  already  succeeded  in  cutting  down  all  our  whip 
ping-posts,  thereby  destroying  the  cheapest  and  best  mode 
of  punishing  a  particular  class  of  crimes  that  was  ever  in 
vented  or  practised.  A  generation  hence,  our  children  will 
feel  the  consequences  of  this  mistaken  philanthropy.  In 
that  day,  let  those  who  own  fowl-houses,  pig-pens,  orchards, 
smoke-houses,  and  other  similar  temptations  to  small  depre 
dations,  look  to  it,  for  I  am  greatly  mistaken  if  the  insecu 
rity  of  their  moveables  does  not  give  the  most  unanswerable 
of  all  commentaries  on  this  capital  misstep.  One  whipping 
post,  discreetly  used,  will  do  more  towards  reforming  a 
neighbourhood  than  a  hundred  gaols,  with  their  twenty  and 
thirty  days'  imprisonments!*  I  have  as  much  disposition 
to  care  for  the  reformation  of  criminals  as  is  healthful,  if  I 
know  myself;  but  the  great  object  of  all  the  punishments  of 
society,  viz.,  its  own  security,  ought  never  to  be  sacrificed 
to  this,  which  is  but  a  secondary  consideration.  Render 
character,  person  and  property  as  secure  as  possible,  in  the 

*  Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage  writes  here  with  prophetic  accuracy. 
Small  depredations  of  this  nature  have  got  to  be  so  very  common, 
that  few  now  think  of  resorting  to  the  law  for  redress.  Instead  of 
furnishing  the  prompt  and  useful  punishment  that  was  administered 
by  our  fathers,  the  law  is  as  much  adorned  with  its  cavillings  and 
delays  in  the  minor  as  in  the  more  important  cases;  and  it  often  takes 
years  to  bring  a  small  depredator  even  to  trial,  if  he  can  find  money 
to  fee  a  sagacious  lawyer. — EDITOR. 


244  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

first  place,  after  which,  try  as  many  experiments  in  philan. 
thropy  as  you  please. 

I  am  sorry  to  see  how  far  the  disposition  to  economise  is 
extending  itself,  in  the  administration  of  American  justice, 
generally.  Under  a  government  like  that  of  this  country, 
it  is  worse  than  idle,  for  it  is  perfectly  futile  to  attempt  to 
gratify  the  imagination  by  a  display  of  its  power,  through 
the  agency  of  pomp  and  representation.  Such  things, 
doubtless,  have  their  uses,  and  are  not  to  be  senselessly 
condemned  until  one  has  had  an  opportunity  of  taking  near 
views  of  their  effects ;  though  useful,  or  the  reverse,  they 
can  never  succeed  here.  But  these  communities  of  ours 
have  it  in  their  power  to  furnish  to  the  world  a  far  more 
illustrious  example  of  human  prescience,  and  benevolent 
care,  by  its  prompt,  exact,  and  well-considered  administra 
tion  of  justice — including  the  cases  in  both  the  civil  and  the 
criminal  courts.  With  what  pride  might  not  the  American 
retort,  when  derided  for  the  simplicity  of  his  executive,  and 
the  smallness  of  the  national  expenditure  in  matters  of  mere 
representation,  could  he  only  say — "  True,  we  waste  no 
thing  on  mere  parade ;  but,  turn  to  the  courts,  and  to  the 
justice  of  the  country ;  which,  after  all,  are  the  great  aim 
of  every  good  government.  Look  at  the  liberality  of  our 
expenditures,  for  the  command  of  the  highest  talent,  in  the 
first  place ;  see,  with  what  generous  care  we  furnish  judges 
in  abundance,  to  prevent  them  from  being  overworked,  and 
to  avoid  ruinous  delays  to  suitors ;  then,  turn  to  the  criminal 
courts,  and  into,  first,  the  entire  justice  of  the  laws ;  next, 
the  care  had  in  the  selection  of  jurors  ;  the  thorough  impar 
tiality  of  all  the  proceedings ;  and,  finally,  when  the  right 
demands  it,  the  prompt,  unerring,  and  almost  terrific  majesty 
of  punishment."  But,  to  return  to  something  that  is  a  good 
deal  more  like  truth  : — 

"  Yes,  yes,"  rejoined  Thousandacres,  "  there  is  no  use 
in  riling  the  feelin's,  by  talking  of  that" — (meaning  Tobit's 
sufferings,  not  at  the  stake,  but  at  the  post ;) — "a  hint's  as 
good  as  a  description.  You  was  taken  afore  a  magistrate, 
was  you ; — and  he  permitted  you  to  prison — but,  he  asked 
what  you  had  to  say  for  yourself,  first  ?  That  was  only 
fair,  and  I  mean  to  act  it  all  out  here,  accordin'  to  law. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  245 

Come,  young  attorney,  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  your 
self?" 

It  struck  me  that,  alone  as  I  was,  in  the  hands  of  men 
who  were  a  species  of  outlaws,  it  might  be  well  to  clear 
myself  from  every  imputation  that,  at  least,  was  not 
merited. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  I  answered,  "  I  will  explain,  a  mis 
take  into  which  you  have  fallen,  Thousandacres ;  for,  let 
us  live  as  friends  or  foes,  it  is  always  best  to  understand 
facts.  I  am  not  an  attorney,  in  the  sense  you  imagine — I 
am  not  a  lawyer." 

I  could  see  that  the  whole  brood  of  squatters,  Prudence 
included,  was  a  good  deal  mollified  by  this  declaration.  As 
for  Lowiny,  her  handsome,  ruddy  face  actually  expressed 
exultation  and  delight !  I  thought  I  heard  that  girl  half  sup 
press  some  such  exclamation  as — "  I  know'd  he  wasn't  no 
lawyer !"  As  for  Tobit,  the  scowling  look,  replete  with 
cat-o'-nine-tails,  actually  departed,  temporarily  at  least.  In 
short,  this  announcement  produced  a  manifest  change  for 
the  better. 

"  No  lawyer,  a'ter  all !"  exclaimed  Thousandacres— 
"  Didn't  you  say  you  was  an  attorney  ?" 

"  That  much  is  true.  I  told  you  that  I  was  the  son  of 
general  Littlepage,  and  that  I  was  his  attorney,  and  that  of 
colonel  Pollock,  the  other  tenant  in  common  of  this  estate ; 
meaning  that  I  held  their  power  of  attorney  to  convey 
lands,  and  to  transact  certain  other  business,  in  their 
names." 

This  caused  me  to  lose  almost  as  much  ground  as  I  had 
just  gained,  though,  being  the  literal  truth,  I  was  resolved 
neither  to  conceal,  nor  to  attempt  to  evade  it. 

"  Good  land !"  murmured  Lowiny.  "  Why  couldn't  the 
man  say  nothin'  about  all  that !" 

A  reproving  look  from  Prudence,  rebuked  the  girl,  and 
she  remained  silent  afterwards,  for  some  time. 

"A  power  of  attornies,  is  it!"  rejoined  the  squatter. 
"  Wa-a-1,  that's  not  much  better  than  being  a  downright 
lawyer.  It 's  having  the  power  of  an  attorney,  I  s'pose, 
and  without  their  accursed  power  it's  little  I  should  kear 
for  any  of  the  breed.  Then  you  're  the  son  of  that  Gin'ral 
Littlepage,  which  is  next  thing  to  being  the  man  himself.  I 
21* 


246  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

should  expect  if  Tobit,  my  oldest  b'y,  was  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  some  that  might  be  named,  it  would  go  hard  with 
him,  all  the  same  as  if  t'was  myself.  I  know  that  some 
make  a  difference  atween  parents  and  children,  but  other 
some  doosen't.  What 's  that  you  said  about  this  gin'ral's 
only  being  a  common  tenant  of  this  land  ?  How  dares  he 
to  call  himself  its  owner,  if  he 's  only  a  common  tenant  ?" 

The  reader  is  not  to  be  surprised  at  Thousandacres' 
trifling  blunders  of  this  sort ;  for,  those  whose  rule  of  right 
is  present  interest,  frequently,  in  the  eagerness  of  rapacity, 
fall  into  this  very  kind  of  error ;  holding  that  cheap  at  one 
moment,  which  they  affect  to  deem  sacred  at  the  next.  I 
dare  say,  if  the  old  squatter  had  held  a  lease  of  the  spot  he 
occupied,  he  would  at  once  have  viewed  the  character  and 
rights  of  a  '  common  tenant,'  as  connected  with  two  of  the 
most  important  interests  of  the  country.  It  happened,  now, 
however,  that  it  was  "  his  bull  that  was  goring  our  ox." 

"  How  dares  he  to  call  himself  the  owner  of  the  sile, 
when  he 's  only  a  common  tenant,  I  say  ?"  repeated  Thou 
sandacres,  with  increasing  energy,  when  he  found  I  did  not 
answer  immediately. 

"  You  have  misunderstood  my  meaning.  I  did  not  say 
that  my  father  was  only  a  *  common  tenant'  of  this  pro 
perty,  but  that  he  and  colonel  Pollock  own  it  absolutely  in 
common,  each  having  his  right  in  every  acre,  and  not  one 
owning  one  half  while  the  other  owns  the  other ;  which  is 
what  the  law  terms  being  '  tenants  in  common,'  though 
strictly  owners  in  fee." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,  Tobit,  if  he  turns  out  to  be  an 
attorney,  in  our  meaning,  a'ter  all !" 

"  It  looks  desp'rately  like  it,  father,"  answered  the  eldest 
born,  who  might  have  been  well  termed  the  heir  at  law  of 
all  his  progenitor's  squatting  and  fierce  propensities.  "  If 
he  isn't  a  downright  lawyer,  he  looks  more  like  one  than 
any  man  I  ever  seed  out  of  court,  in  my  whull  life." 

"  He  '11  find  his  match  !  Law  and  I  have  been  at  logger 
heads  ever  sin'  the  day  I  first  went  into  Varmount,  or  them 
plaguy  Hampshire  Grants.  When  law  gets  me  in  its 
clutches,  it 's  no  wonder  if  it  gets  the  best  on  't ;  but,  when 
I  get  law  in  mine,  or  one  of  its  sarvants,  it  shall  be  my  fault 
if  law  doosen't  come  out  second  best.  Wa-a-1,  wo  've  heerd 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  247 

the  young  man's  story,  Tobit.  I  've  asked  him  what  he 
had  to  say  for  himself,  and  he  has  g'in  us  his  tell — tell'd  us 
how  he 's  his  own  father's  son,  and  that  the  gin'rai  is  some 
sort  of  a  big  tenant,  instead  of  being  a  landlord,  and  isn't 
much  better  than  we  are  ourselves ;  and  it 's  high  time  I 
permitted  him  to  custody.  You  had  writin's  for  what  they 
did  to  you,  I  dares  to  say,  Tobit  T' 

"  Sartain.  The  magistrate  give  the  sheriff's  deputy  a 
permittimus,  and,  on  the  strength  of  that,  they  permitted 
me  to  gaol." 

"  Ye-e-es — I  know  all  about  their  niceties  and  appear 
ances  !  I  have  had  dealin's  afore  many  a  magistrate,  in 
my  day,  and  have  onsuited  many  a  chap  that  thought  to 
get  the  best  on't  afore  we  begun  !  Onsuiting  the  man  that 
brings  the  suit,  is  the  cleanest  way  of  getting  out  of  the 
law,  as  I  knows  on ;  but  it  takes  a  desp'rate  long  head 
sometimes  to  do  it !  Afore  I  permit  this  young  man,  I  '11 
show  writin's,  too.  Prudence,  just  onlock  the  drawer — " 

"  I  wish  to  correct  one  mistake  before  you  proceed  fur 
ther,"  interrupted  I.  "  For  the  second  time,  I  tell  you  I  am 
no  lawyer,  in  any  sense  of  the  word.  I  am  a  soldier— -have 
commanded  a  company  in  General  Littlepage's  own  regi 
ment,  and  served  with  the  army  when  only  a  boy  in  years. 
I  saw  both  Burgoyne  and  Corjawallis  surrender,  and  their 
troops  lay  down  their  arms." 

"  Good  now  !  Who'd  ha'  thought  it !"  exclaimed  the  com 
passionate  Lowiny.  "And  he  so  young,  that  you'd  hardly 
think  the  wind  had  ever  blown  on  him !" 

My  announcement  of  this  new  character  was  not  without 
a  marked  effect.  Fighting  was  a  thing  to  the  whole  family's 
taste,  and  what  they  could  appreciate  better,  perhaps,  than 
any  other  act  or  deed.  There  was  something  warlike  in 
Thousandacres'  very  countenance  and  air,  and  I  was  not 
mistaken  in  supposing  he  might  feel  some  little  sympathy 
for  a  soldier.  He  eyed  me  keenly  ;  and,  whether  or  not  he 
discovered  signs  of  the  truth  of  my  assertion  in  my  mien, 
I  saw  that  he  once  more  relented  in  purpose. 

"You  out  ag'in  Burg'yne!"  the  old  fellow  exclaimed. 
"  Can  I  believe  what  you  say  ?  Why,  I  was  out  ag'in 
Burg'yne  myself,  with  Tobit,  and  Moses,  and  Nathaniel, 
and  Jedidiah — with  every  male  crittur'  of  the  family,  in 


248  THE     CIIAINBEARER. 

short,  that  was  big  enough  to  load  and  fire.  I  count  them 
days  as  among  my  very  best,  though  they  did  come  late, 
and  a'ter  old  age  had  made  some  head  ag'in  me.  How  can 
you  prove  you  was  out  ag'in  Burg'yne  and  Cornwallis  ?" 

I  knew  that  there  was  often  a  strange  medley  of  soi-disant 
patriotic  feeling  mixed  up  with  the  most  confirmed  knavery 
in  ordinary  matters,  and  saw  I  had  touched  a  chord  that 
might  thrill  on  the  sympathies  of  even  these  rude  and 
supremely  selfish  beings.  The  patriotism  of  such  men, 
indeed,  is  nothing  but  an  enlargement  of  selfishness,  since 
they  prize  things  because  they  belong  to  themselves,  or 
they,  in  one  sense,  belong  to  the  things.  They  take  sides 
with  themselves,  but  never  with  principles.  That  patriotism 
alone  is  pure,  which  would  keep  the  country  in  the  paths 
of  truth,  honour  and  justice  ;  and  no  man  is  empowered,  in 
his  zeal  for  his  particular  nation,  any  more  than  in  his  zeal 
for  himself,  to  forget  the  law  of  right. 

"  I  cannot  prove  I  was  out  against  Burgoyne,  standing 
here  where  I  am,  certainly,"  I  answered  ;  "  but  give  me  an 
opportunity,  and  I  will  show  it  to  your  entire  satisfaction." 

"  Which  rijiment  was  on  the  right,  Hazen's  or  Brookes's, 
in  storming  the  Jarmans  ?  Tell  me  that,  and  I  will  soon 
let  you  know  whether  I  believe  you  or  not." 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  that  fact,  for  I  was  with  my  own  bat 
talion,  and  the  smoke  would  not  permit  such  a  thing  to  be 
seen.  I  do  not  know  that  either  of  the  corps  you  mention 
was  in  that  particular  part  of  the  field  that  day,  though  I 
believe  both  to  have  been  warmly  engaged." 

"  He  warnt  there,"  drawled  out  Tobit,  in  his  most  dis 
satisfied  manner,  almost  showing  his  teeth,  like  a  dog,  under 
Jhe  impulse  of  the  hatred  he  felt. 

"  He  was  there !"  cried  Lowiny,  positively ;  "  I  know  he 
was  there !" 

A  slap  from  Prudence  taught  the  girl  the  merit  of  silence ; 
but  the  men  were  too  much  interested  to  heed  an  interrup 
tion  as  characteristic  and  as  bootless  as  this. 

"  I  see  how  it  is,"  added  Thousandacres ;  "  I  must  permit 
the  chap  a'ter  all.  Seein',  however,  that  there  is  a  chance 
of  his  having  been  out  ag'in  Burg'yne,  I  '11  permit  him 
without  writin's,  and  he  shan't  be  bound.  Tobit,  take  your 
p1  isoner  away,  and  shut  him  up  in  the  store-'us'.  When 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  249 

your  brothers  get  back  from  their  hunt  a'ter  the  Injin,  we  '11 
detarmine  among  us  what  is  to  be  done  with  him." 

Thousandacres  delivered  his  orders  with  dignity,  and 
they  were  obeyed  to  the  letter.  I  made  no  resistance,  since 
it  would  only  have  led  to  a  scuffle,  in  which  I  should  have 
sustained  the  indignity  of  defeat,  to  say  nothing  of  personal 
injuries.  Tobit,  however,  did  not  offer  personal  violence, 
contenting  himself  with  making  a  sign  for  me  to  follow  him, 
which  I  did,  followed  in  turn  by  his  two  double-jointed  bro 
thers.  I  will  acknowledge  that,  as  we  proceeded  towards 
my  prison,  the  thought  of  flight  crossed  my  mind ;  and  I 
might  have  attempted  it,  but  for  the  perfect  certainty  that, 
with  so  many  on  my  heels,  I  must  have  been  overtaken, 
when  severe  punishment  would  probably  have  been  my  lot. 
On  the  whole,  I  thought  it  best  to  submit  for  a  time,  and 
trust  the  future  to  Providence.  As  to  remonstrance  or  de 
precation,  pride  forbade  my  having  recourse  to  either.  I 
was  not  yet  reduced  so  low  as  to  solicit  favours  from  a 
squatter. 

The  gaol  to  which  I  was  "  permitted"  by  Thousandacres 
was  a  store-house,  or,  as  he  pronounced  the  word,  a  "  store- 
'us,"  of  logs,  which  had  been  made  of  sufficient  strength  to 
resist  depredations,  let  them  come  from  whom  they  might  • 
and  they  were  quite  as  likely  to  come  from  some  within  as 
from  any  without.  In  consequence  of  its  destination,  the 
building  was  not  ill-suited  to  become  a  gaol.  The  logs,  of 
course,  gave  a  sufficient  security  against  the  attempts  of  a 
prisoner  without  tools  or  implements  of  any  sort,  the  roof 
being  made  of  the  same  materials  as  the  sides.  There  was 
no  window,  abundance  of  air  and  light  entering  through  the 
fissures  of  the  rough  logs,  which  had  open  intervals  between 
them  ;  and  the  only  artificial  aperture  was  the  door.  This 
last  was  made  of  stout  planks,  and  was  well  secured  by 
heavy  hinges,  and  strong  bolts  and  locks.  The  building 
was  of  some  size,  too — twenty  feet  in  length,  at  least — one 
end  of  it,  though  then  quite  empty,  having  been  intended 
and  used  as  a  crib  for  the  grain  that  we  Americans  call,  par 
excellence,  corn.  Into  this  building  I  entered,  after  having 
the  large  knife  that  most  woodsmen  carry  taken  from  my 
pocket ;  and  a  search  was  made  on  my  person  for  any  simi 
lar  implement  that  might  aid  me  in  an  attempt  to  escape. 


350  THE    CHA1NBEAREE* 

In  that  day  America  had  no  paper  money,  from  the  bay 
of  Hudson  to  Cape  Horn.  Gold  and  silver  formed  the  cur 
rency,  and  my  pockets  had  a  liberal  supply  of  both,  in  the 
shape  of  joes  and  half  joes,  dollars,  halves,  and  quarters. 
Not  a  piece  of  coin,  of  any  sort,  was  molested,  however, 
these  squatters  not  being  robbers,  in  the  ordinary  significa 
tion  of  the  term,  but  merely  deluded  citizens,  who  appropri 
ated  the  property  of  others  to  their  own  use,  agreeably  to 
certain  great  principles  of  morals  that  had  grown  up  under 
their  own  peculiar  relations  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  their 
immediate  necessities  and  their  convenience.  I  make  no 
doubt  that  every  member  of  the  family  of  Thousandacres 
would  spurn  the  idea  of  his  or  her's  being  a  vulgar  thief, 
drawing  some  such  distinctions  in  the  premises  as  the  Drakes, 
Morgans,  Woodes  Rogers'  and  others  of  that  school,  drew 
between  themselves  and  the  vulgar  every-day  sea-robbers 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  though  with  far  less  reason. 
But  robbers  these  squatters  were  not,  except  in  one  mode, 
and  that  mode  they  almost  raised  to  the  dignity  of  respect 
able  hostilities,  by  the  scale  on  which  they  transacted  busi 
ness. 

I  was  no  sooner  "  locked  up"  than  I  began  a  survey  of 
my  prison  and  the  surrounding  objects.  There  was  no  dif 
ficulty  in  doing  either,  the  openings  between  the  logs  allow 
ing  of  a  clear  reconnoissance  on  every  side.  With  a  view 
to  keeping  its  contents  in  open  sight,  I  fancy,  the  "  store-'us" 
was  placed  in  the  very  centre  of  the  settlement,  having  the 
mills,  cabins,  barns,  sheds  and  other  houses,  encircling  it 
in  a  sort  of  hamlet.  This  circumstance,  which  would  ren 
der  escape  doubly  difficult,  was,  notwithstanding,  greatly  in 
favour  of  reconnoitring.  I  will  now  describe  the  results  of 
my  observations.  As  a  matter  of  course,  my  appearance, 
the  announcement  of  my  character,  and  my  subsequent  ar 
rest,  were  circumstances  likely  to  produce  a  sensation  in 
the  family  of  the  squatter.  All  the  women  had  gathered 
around  Prudence,  near  the  door  of  her  cabin,  and  the 
younger  girls  were  attracted  to  that  spot,  as  the  particles  of 
matter  are  known  to  obey  the  laws  of  affinity.  The  males, 
one  boy  of  eight  or  ten  years  excepted,  were  collected  near 
the  mill,  where  Thousandacres,  apparently,  was  holding  a 
consultation  with  Tobit  and  the  rest  of  the  brotherhood 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  251 

among  whom,  I  fancy,  was  no  one  entitled  to  be  termed  an 
angel.  Everybody  seemed  to  be  intently  listening  to  the 
different  speakers,  the  females  often  turning  their  eyes  to 
wards  their  male  protectors,  anxiously  and  with  long  pro 
tracted  gazes.  Indeed,  many  of  them  looked  in  that  direc 
tion,  even  while  they  gave  ear  to  the  wisdom  of  Prudence 
herself. 

The  excepted  boy  had  laid  himself,  in  a  lounging,  Ameri 
can  sort  of  an  attitude,  on  a  saw-log,  near  my  prison,  and 
in  a  position  that  enabled  him  to  see  both  sides  of  it,  without 
changing  his  ground.  By  the  manner  in  which  his  eyes 
were  fastened  on  the  "  store-'us"  I  was  soon  satisfied  that  he 
was  acting  in  the  character  of  a  sentinel.  Thus,  my  gaol 
was  certainly  sufficiently  secure,  as  the  force  of  no  man, 
unaided  and  without  implements,  could  have  broken  a  pass 
age  through  the  logs. 

Having  thus  taken  a  look  at  the  general  aspect  of  things, 
I  had  leisure  to  reflect  on  my  situation,  and  the  probable 
consequences  of  my  arrest.  For  my  life  I  had  no  great  ap 
prehensions,  not  as  much  as  I  ought  to  have  had,  under  the 
circumstances ;  but,  it  did  not  strike  me  that  I  was  in  any 
great  danger  on  that  score.  The  American  character,  in 
general,  is  not  blood-thirsty,  and  that  of  New  England  less 
so,  perhaps,  than  that  of  the  rest  of  the  country.  Never 
theless,  in  a  case  of  property,  the  tenacity  of  the  men  of 
that  quarter  of  the  country  was  proverbial,  and  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  I  should  be  detained,  if  possible,  until 
all  the  lumber  could  be  got  to  market  and  disposed  of,  as 
the  only  means  of  reaping  the  fruit  of  past  labour.  The 
possibility  depended  on  the  escape  or  the  arrest  of  Sureflint. 
Should  that  Indian  be  taken,  Thousandacres  and  his  family 
would  be  as  secure  as  ever  in  their  wilderness ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  should  he  escape,  I  might  expect  to  hear  from 
my  friends  in  the  course  of  the  day.  By  resorting  to  a  re 
quisition  on  'squire  Newcome,  who  was  a  magistrate,  my 
tenants  might  be  expected  to  make  an  effort  in  my  behalf, 
when  the  only  grounds  of  apprehension  would  be  the  conse 
quences  of  the  struggle.  The  squatters  were  sometimes 
dangerous  under  excitement,  and  when  sustaining  each 
other,  with  arms  in  their  hands,  in  what  they  fancy  to  be 
their  hard-earned  privileges.  There  is  no  end  to  the  delu- 


252  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

sions  of  men  on  such  subjects,  self-interest  seeming  com* 
pletely  to  blind  their  sense  of  right ;  and  I  have  often  met 
with  cases  in  which  parties  who  were  trespassers,  and  in  3 
moral  view,  robbers,  ab  origine,  have  got  really  to  fancy 
that  their  subsequent  labours  (every  new  blow  of  the  axe 
being  an  additional  wrong)  gave  a  sort  of  sanctity  to  pos 
sessions,  in  the  defence  of  which  they  were  willing  to  die.  It 
is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  such  persons  look  only  at 
themselves,  entirely  disregarding  the  rights  of  others  ;  but, 
one  wonders  where  the  fruits  of  all  the  religious  instruction 
of  the  country  are  to  be  found,  when  opinions  so  loose  and 
acts  so  flagrant  are  constantly  occurring  among  us.  The 
fact  is,  land  is  so  abundant,  and  such  vast  bodies  lie  ne 
glected  and  seemingly  forgotten  by  their  owners,  that  the 
needy  are  apt  to  think  indifference  authorizes  invasions  on 
such  unoccupied  property  ;  and  their  own  labour  once  ap 
plied,  they  are  quick  to  imagine  that  it  gives  them  a  moral 
and  legal  interest  in  the  soil ;  though,  in  the  eye  of  the  law 
and  of  unbiassed  reason,  each  new  step  taken  in  what  is 
called  the  improvement  of  a  "  betterment"  is  but  a  farthe : 
advance  in  the  direction  of  wrong-doing. 

I  was  reflecting  on  things  of  this  sort,  when,  looking 
through  the  cracks  of  my  prison,  to  ascertain  the  state  of 
matters  without,  I  was  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  a 
man  on  horseback,  who  was  entering  the  clearing  on  its 
eastern  side,  seemingly  quite  at  home  in  his  course,  though 
he  was  travelling  without  even  a  foot-path  to  aid  him.  As 
this  man  had  a  pair  of  the  common  saddle-bags  of  the  day 
on  his  horse,  I  at  first  took  him  for  one  of  those  practitioners 
of  the  healing  art,  who  are  constantly  met  with  in  the  new 
settlements,  winding  their  way  through  stumps,  logs,  mo 
rasses  and  forests,  the  ministers  of  good  or  evil,  I  shall  not 
pretend  to  say  which.  Ordinarily,  families  like  that  of 
Thousandacres  do  their  own  "  doctoring  ;"  but  a  case  might 
occur  that  demanded  the  wisdom  of  the  licensed  leech ;  and 
I  had  just  decided  in  my  own  mind  that  this  must  be  one, 
when,  as  the  stranger  drew  nearer,  to  my  surprise  I  saw 
that  it  was  no  other  than  my  late  agent,  Mr.  Jason  New 
come,  and  the  moral  and  physical  factotum  of  Ravensnest ! 

As  the  distance  between  the  mill  that  'squire  Newcome 
leased  of  me,  and  that  which  Thousandacres  had  set  up  on 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  253 

the  property  of  Mooseridge,  could  not  be  less  than  five-and- 
twenty  miles,  the  arrival  of  this  visiter  at  an  hour  so  early 
was  a  certain  proof  that  he  had  left  his  own  house  long 
before  the  dawn.  It  was  probably  convenient  to  pass 
through  the  farms  and  dwellings  of  Ravensnest,  on  the 
errand  on  which  he  was  now  bent,  at  an  hour  of  the  night 
or  morning  when  darkness  would  conceal  the  movement. 
By  timing  his  departure  with  the  same  judgment,  it  was 
obvious  he  could  reach  home  under  the  concealment  of 
the  other  end  of  the  same  mantle.  In  a  word,  this  visit 
was  evidently  one,  in  the  objects  and  incidents  of  which 
it  was  intended  that  the  world  at  large  should  have  no 
share. 

The  dialogues  between  the  members  of  the  family  of 
Thousandacres  ceased,  the  moment  'squire  Newcome  came 
in  view ;  though,  as  was  apparent  by  the  unmoved  manner 
in  which  his  approach  was  witnessed,  the  sudden  appear 
ance  of  this  particular  visiter  produced  neither  surprise  nor 
uneasiness.  Although  it  must  have  been  a  thing  to  be 
desired  by  the  squatters,  to  keep  their  "  location"  a  secret, 
more  especially  since  the  peace  left  landlords  at  leisure  to 
look  after  their  lands,  no  one  manifested  any  concern  at 
discovering  this,  arrival  in  their  clearing  of  the  nearest 
magistrate.  Any  one  might  see,  by  the  manner  of  men, 
women  and  children,  that  'squire  Newcome  was  no  stranger, 
and  that  his  presence  gave  them  no  alarm.  Even  the  early 
hour  of  this  visit  was  most  probably  that  to  which  they 
were  accustomed,  the  quick-witted  intellects  of  the  young 
fry  causing  them  to  understand  the  reason  quite  as  readily 
as  was  the  case  with  their  seniors.  In  a  word,  the  guest 
was  regarded  as  a  friend,  rather  than  as  an  enemy. 

Newcome  was  some  little  time,  after  he  came  into  view, 
in  reaching  the  hamlet,  if  the  cluster  of  buildings  can  be  so 
termed ;  and  when  he  did  alight,  it  was  before  the  door 
of  a  stable,  towards  which  one  of  the  boys  now  scampered, 
to  be  in  readiness  to  receive  his  horse.  The  beast  disposed 
of,  the  'squire  advanced  to  the  spot  where  Thousandacres 
and  his  elder  sons  still  remained  to  receive  him,  or  that  near 
the  mill.  The  manner  in  which  all  parties  shook  hands, 
and  the  cordiality  of  the  salutations  generally,  in  which 
Prudence  and  her  daughters  soon  shared,  betokened  some* 
22 


254  THE    CIIAINBEARER. 

thing  more  than  amity,  I  fancied,  for  it  looked  very  much 
like  intimacy. 

Jason  Newcome  remained  in  the  family  group  some  eight 
or  ten  minutes,  and  I  could  almost  fancy  the  prescribed 
inquiries  about  the  "folks"  (anglice,  folk),  the  "general 
state  of  health,"  and  the  character  of  the  "  times,"  ere  the 
magistrate  and  the  squatter  separated  themselves  from  the 
rest  of  the  party,  walking  aside  like  men  who  had  matters 
of  moment  to  discuss,  and  that  under  circumstances  which 
could  dispense  with  the  presence  of  any  listeners. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  Peculiar  both ! 

Our  soil's  strong  growth 
And  our  bold  natives'  hardy  mind ; 

Sure  heaven  bespoke 

Our  hearts  and  oak 
To  give  a  master  to  mankind." 

YOUNO. 

THOUSAND  ACRES  and  the  magistrate  held  their  way  di 
rectly  towards  the  store-house ;  and  the  log  of  the  sentinel 
offering  a  comfortable  seat,  that  functionary  was  dismissed, 
when  the  two  worthies  took  his  place,  with  their  backs 
turned  towards  my  prison.  Whether  this  disposition  of 
their  persons  was  owing  to  a  deep-laid  plan  of  the  squatter's, 
or  not,  I  never  knew  ;  but,  let  the  cause  have  been  what  it 
might,  the  effect  was  to  render  me  an  auditor  of  nearly  aU 
that  passed  in  the  dialogue  which  succeeded.  It  will  greatl) 
aid  the  reader  in  understanding  the  incidents  about  to  be 
recorded,  if  I  spread  on  the  record  the  language  that  passed 
between  my  late  agent  and  one  who  was  obviously  his  con 
fidant  in  certain  matters,  if  not  in  all  that  touched  my  inte 
rests  in  that  quarter  of  the  world.  As  for  listening,  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  avowing  it,  inasmuch  as  the  circumstances 
would  have  justified  me  in  taking  far  greater  liberties  with 
the  customary  obligations  of  society  in  its  every-day  aspect, 
had  I  seen  fit  so  to  do.  I  was  dealing  with  rogues,  who  had 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  255 

me  in  their  power,  and  there  was  no  obligation  to  be  particu 
larly  scrupulous  on  the  score  of  mere  conventional  propriety, 
at  least. 

"  As  I  was  tellin'  y'e,  Thousandacres,"  Newcome  con 
tinued  the  discourse  by  saying,  and  that  with  the  familiarity 
of  one  who  well  knew  his  companion,  "  the  young  man  is 
in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  somewhere  quite  near  you 
at  this  moment" — I  was  much  nearer  than  the  'squire,  him 
self,  had  any  notion  of  at  that  instant  —  "  yes,  he  's  out  in 
the  woods  of  this  very  property,  with  Chainbearer  and  his 
gang ;  and,  for  'tinow  [for  aught  I  know],  measuring  out 
farms  within  a  mile  or  two  of  this  very  spot !" 

"  How  many  men  be  there  ?"  asked  the  squatter,  with 
interest.  "  If  no  more  than  the  usual  set,  't  will  be  an 
onlucky  day  for  them,  should  they  stumble  on  my  clearin' !" 

"  Perhaps  they  will,  perhaps  they  wunt ;  a  body  never 
knows.  Surveyin'  's  a  sort  o'  work  that  leads  a  man  here, 
or  it  leads  him  there.  One  never  knows  where  a  line  will 
carry  him,  in  the  woods.  That 's  the  reason  I  've  kept  the 
crittur's  out  of  my  own  timber-land ;  for,  to  speak  to  you, 
Thousandacres,  as  one  neighbour  can  speak  to  another 
without  risk,  there 's  desp'rate  large  pine-trees  on  the  un- 
leased  hills  both  north  and  east  of  my  lot.  Sometimes  it 's 
handy  to  have  lines  about  a  mile,  you  know,  sometimes 't  isn't. 

"A  curse  on  all  lines,  in  a  free  country,  say  I,  'squire," 
answered  Thousandacres,  who  looked,  as  he  bestowed  this 
characteristic  benediction,  as  if  he  might  better  be  named 
jTenthousandacres ;  "  they  're  an  invention  of  the  devil. 
I  lived  seven  whull  years,  in  Varmount  State,  as  it 's  now 
called,  the  old  Hampshire  Grants,  you  know,  next-door  neigh 
bour  to  two  families,  one  north  and  one  south  on  me,  and 
we  chopped  away  the  whull  time,  jest  as  freely  as  we 
pleased,  and  not  a  cross  word  or  an  angry  look  passed 
atween  us." 

"  I  rather  conclude,  friend  Aaron,  you  had  all  sat  down 
under  the  same  title?"  put  in  the  magistrate,  with  a  sly 
look  at  his  companion.  "  When  that  is  the  case,  it  would - 
exceed  all  reason  to  quarrel." 

"Why,  I'll  own  that  our  titles  was  pretty  much  the 
same  ; — possession  and  free  axes.  Then  it  was  ag'in  York 
Colony  landholders  that  our  time  was  running.  What's 


256  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

your  candid  opinion  about  law,  on  this  p'int,  'Squire  New 
come  1 — I  know  you  're  a  man  of  edication,  college  1'arnt 
some  say ;  though,  I  s'pose,  that 's  no  better  Tarnin'  than 
any  other,  when  a  body  has  once  got  it — but  what 's  your 
opinion  about  possession  ? — Will  it  hold  good  in  twenty-one 
years,  without  writin's,  or  not  1  Some  say  it  will,  and  some 
say  it  wunt." 

"  It  wunt.  The  law  is  settled  ;  there  must  be  a  shadow 
of  title,  or  possession 's  good  for  nothin' ;  no  better  than  the 
scrapin's  of  a  flour-barrel." 

"  I  've  heer'n  say  the  opposyte  of  that  j  and  there  's  reason 
why  possession  should  count  ag'in  everything.  By  posses 
sion,  however,  I  don't  mean  hangin'  up  a  pair  of  saddle 
bags  on  a  tree,  as  is  sometimes  done,  but  goin'  honestly  and 
fairly  in  upon  land,  and  cuttin'  down  trees,  and  buildin' 
mills,  and  housen  and  barns,  and  cuttin',  and  slashin',  and 
sawin'  right  and  left,  like  all  creation.  That 's  what  I 
always  doos  myself,  and  that 's  what  I  call  sich  a  possession 
as  ought  to  stand  in  law — ay,  and  in  gospel,  too ;  for  I  'm 
not  one  of  them  that  flies  in  the  face  of  religion." 

"  In  that  you  're  quite  right ;  keep  the  gospel  on  your 
side  whatever  you  do,  neighbour  Thousandacres.  Our 
Puritan  fathers  didn't  cross  the  ocean,  and  encounter  the 
horrors  of  the  wilderness,  and  step  on  the  rock  of  Plymouth, 
and  undergo  more  than  man  could  possibly  bear,  and  that 
all  for  nothin' !" 

"  Wa-a-1,  to  my  notion,  the  <  horrors  of  the  wilderness,' 
as  you  call  'em,  is  no  great  matter ;  though,  as  for  crossin* 
the  ocean,  I  can  easily  imagine  that  must  be  suthin'  to  try 
a  man's  patience  and  endurance.  I  never  could  take  to  the 
water.  They  tell  me  there  isn't  a  single  tree  growin'  the 
whull  distance  atween  Ameriky  and  England !  Floatin' 
saw-logs  be  sometimes  met  with,  I  've  heer'n  say,  but  not  a 
standin'  crittur'  of  a  tree  from  Massachusetts  bay  to  London 
town !" 

"  It 's  all  water  and  of  course  trees  be  scarce,  Thousand- 
acres  ;  but  let 's  come  a  little  clusser  to  the  p'int.  As  I  was 
tellin'  you,  the  whelp  is  in,  and  he'll  growl  as  loud  as  the 
old  bear  himself,  should  he  hear  of  all  them  boards  you  've 
got  in  the  creek — to  say  nothin'  of  the  piles  up  here  that 
you  haven't  even  begun  to  put  into  the  water." 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  26/ 

"Let  him  growl,"  returned  the  old  squatter,  glancing 
surlily  towards  my  prison ;  "  like  a  good  many  other  crittur's 
that  I  've  met  with,  't  will  turn  out  that  his  bark  is  worse 
than  his  bite." 

"  I  don't  know  that,  neighbour  Thousandacres,  I  don't  by 
any  means  know  that.  Major  Littlepage  is  a  gentleman  of 
spirit  and  decision,  as  is  to  be  seen  by  his  having  taken  his 
agency  from  me,  who  have  held  it  so  long,  and  gi'n  it  to  a 
young  chap  who  has  no  other  claim  than  bein'  a  tolerable 
surveyor ;  but  who  hasn't  been  in  the  settlement  more  than 
a  twelvemonth." 

"  Gi'n  it  to  a  surveyor !  Is  he  one  of  Chainbearer's 
measurin'  devils  ?" 

"  Just  so ;  't  is  the  very  young  fellow  Chainbearer  has 
has  had  with  him  this  year  or  so,  runnin'  lines  and  measurin' 
land  on  this  very  property." 

"  That  old  fellow,  Chainbearer,  had  best  look  to  himself! 
He's  thwarted  me  now  three  times  in  the  course  of  his  life, 
and  he 's  gettin'  to  be  desp'rate  old ;  I  'm  afeard  he  won't 
live  long !" 

I  could  now  see  that  Squire  Newcome  felt  uneasy.  Al 
though  a  colleague  of  the  squatter's  in  what  is  only  too  apt 
to  be  considered  a  venial  roguery  in  a  new  country,  or  in 
the  stealing  of  timber,  it  did  not  at  all  comport  with  the  scale 
of  his  rascality  to  menace  a  man's  life.  He  would  connive 
at  stealing  timber  by  purchasing  the  lumber  at  sufficiently 
low  prices,  so  long  as  the  danger  of  being  detected  was  kept 
within  reasonable  limits,  but  he  did  not  like  to  be  connected 
with  any  transaction  that  did  not,  in  the  case  of  necessity, 
admit  of  a  tolerably  safe  retreat  from  all  pains  and  penalties. 
Men  become  very  much  what — not  their  laws — but  what  the 
administration  of  their  laws  makes  them.  In  countries  in 
which  it  is  prompt,  sure,  and  sufficiently  severe,  crimes  are 
mainly  the  fruits  of  temptation  and  necessity ;  but  such  a 
state  of  society  may  exist,  in  which  Justice  falls  into  con 
tempt  by  her  own  impotency,  and  men  are  led  to  offend 
merely  to  brave  her.  Thus  we  have  long  laboured  under 
the  great  disadvantage  of  living  under  laws  that,  in  a  great 
degree,  were  framed  for  another  set  of  circumstances.  By 
the  common  law  it  was  only  trespass  to  cut  down  a  tree  in 
England ;  for  trees  were  seldom  or  never  stolen,  and  the 
22* 


258  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

law  did  not  wish  to  annex  the  penalties  of  felony  to  the 
simple  offence  of  cutting  a  twig  in  a  wood.  With  us,  how 
ever,  entire  new  classes  of  offences  have  sprung  up  under 
our  own  novel  circumstances  ;  and  we  probably  owe  a  por 
tion  of  the  vast  amount  of  timber-stealing  that  has  now 
long  existed  among  us,  quite  as  much  to  the  mistaken  lenity 
of  the  laws,  as  to  the  fact  that  this  particular  description  of 
property  is  so  much  exposed.  Many  a  man  would  commit 
a  trespass  of  the  gravest  sort,  who  would  shrink  from  the 
commission  of  a  felony  of  the  lowest.  Such  was  the  case 
with  Newcome.  He  had  a  certain  sort  of  law-honesty 
about  him,  that  enabled  him  in  a  degree  to  preserve  appear 
ances.  It  is  true  he  connived  at  the  unlawful  cutting  of 
timber  by  purchasing  the  sawed  lumber,  but  he  took  good 
care,  at  the  same  time,  not  to  have  any  such  direct  connec 
tion  with  the  strictly  illegal  part  of  the  transaction,  as  to 
involve  him  in  the  penalties  of  the  law.  Had  timber-stealing 
been  felony,  he  would  have  often  been  an  accessory  before 
the  act ;  but,  in  a  case  of  misdemeanour,  the  law  knows  no 
such  offence.  Purchasing  the  sawed  lumber,  too,  if  done 
with  proper  precaution,  owing  to  the  glorious  subterfuges 
permitted  by  "  the  perfection  of  reason,"  was  an  affair  of  no 
personal  hazard  in  a  criminal  point  of  view,  and  even  ad- 
mitted  of  so  many  expedients  as  to  leave  the  question  of 
property  a  very  open  one,  after  the  boards  were  fully  in  his 
own  possession.  The  object  of  his  present  visit  to  the  clear 
ing  of  Thousandacres,  as  the  reader  will  most  probably 
have  anticipated,  was  to  profit  by  my  supposed  proximity, 
and  to  frighten  the  squatter  into  a  sale  on  such  terms  as 
should  leave  larger  profits  than  common  in  the  hands  of  the 
purchaser.  Unfortunately  for  the  success  of  this  upright 
project,  my  proximity  was  so  much  greater  than  even  Squire 
Newcome  supposed,  as  to  put  it  in  danger  by  the  very  ex 
cess  of  the  thing  that  was  to  produce  the  result  desired. 
Little  did  that  honest  magistrate  suppose  that  I  was,  the 
whole  time,  within  twenty  feet  of  him,  and  that  I  heard  all 
that  passed. 

"Chainbearer  is  about  seventy,"  returned  Newcome, 
after  musing  a  moment  on  the  character  of  his  companion's 
last  remark.  "Yes,  about  seventy,  I  should  judge  from 
what  I  'vo  heerd,  and  what  I  know  of  the  man.  It  'a  a 


THE    CHA.INBEAREK.  259 

good  old  age,  but  folks  often  live  years  and  years  beyond 
it.  You  must  be  suthin'  like  that  yourself,  Thousand- 
acres  ?" 

"  Seventy-three,  every  day  and  hour  on 't,  'squire  ;  and 
days  and  hours  well  drawn  out,  too.  If  you  count  by 
old  style,  I  b'lieve  I  'm  a  month  or  so  older.  But,  I  'm  not 
Chainbearer.  No  man  can  say  of  me,  that  I  ever  made 
myself  troublesome  to  a  neighbourhood.  No  man  can  p'int 
to  the  time  when  I  ever  disturbed  his  lines.  No  man  can 
tell  of  the  day  when  I  ever  went  into  court  to  be  a  witness 
on  such  a  small  matter  as  the  length  or  breadth  of  lots,  to 
breed  quarrels  at  ween  neighbours.  No,  'squire  Newcome, 
I  set  store  by  my  character,  which  will  bear  comparison 
with  that  of  any  other  inhabitant  of  the  woods  I  ever  met 
with.  And  what  I  say  of  myself  I  can  say  of  my  sons 
and  da'ghters,  too — from  Tobit  down  to  Sampson,  from  Nab 
to  Jeruthy.  We  're  what  I  call  a  reasonable  and  reconcile- 
able  breed,  minding  our  own  business,  and  having  a  respect 
for  that  of  other  people.  Now,  here  am  I,  in  my  seventy- 
fourth  year,  and  the  father  of  twelve  living  children,  and 
I  've  made,  in  my  time,  many  and  many  a  pitch  on't,  but 
never  was  I  known  to  pitch  on  land  that  another  man  had 
in  possession  : — and  I  carry  my  idees  of  possession  farther 
than  most  folks,  too,  for  I  call  it  possession  to  have  said 
openly,  and  afore  witnesses,  that  a  man  intends  to  pitch  on 
any  partic'lar  spot  afore  next  ploughin'  or  droppin'  time,  as 
the  case  may  be.  No,  I  respect  possession,  which  ought  to 
be  the  only  lawful  title  to  property,  in  a  free  country. 
When  a  man  wants  a  clearin',  or  wants  to  make  one,  my 
doctrine  is,  let  him  look  about  him,  and  make  his  pitch  on 
calcerlation ;  and  when  he 's  tired  of  the  spot,  and  wants  a 
change,  let  him  sell  his  betterments,  if  he  lights  of  a  chap, 
and  if  he  doos'nt,  let  him  leave  'em  open,  and  clear  off  all 
incumbrances,  for  the  next  comer." 

It  is  probable  that  Jason  Newcome,  Esq. — magistrates  in 
America  are  exceedingly  tenacious  of  this  title,  though  they 
have  no  more  right  to  it  than  any  one  else — but  Jason 
Newcome,  Esq.,*  did  not  carry  his  notions  of  the  rights  of 

*In  order  to  understand  Mr.  Littlepage  in  what  he  says  of 
•  Esquires,'  a  word  of  explanation  may  be  necessary.  Th«  term. 


260  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

squatters,  and  of  the  sacred  character  of  possession,  quite 
as  far  as  did  his  friend  Thousandacres.  Newcome  was  an 
exceedingly  selfish,  but,  withal,  an  exceedingly  shrewd  man. 
I  do  not  know  that  the  term  clever,  in  its  broadest  significa 
tion,  would  fitly  apply  to  him,  for,  in  that  sense,  I  conceive 
it  means  quickness  and  intelligence  enough  to  do  what  is 
right ;  but,  he  was  fully  entitled  to  receive  it,  under  that 
qualification  by  which  we  say  a  man  is  « a  clever  rogue.' 
In  a  word,  Mr.  Newcome  understood  himself,  and  his  rela 
tions  to  the  community  in  which  he  lived,  too  well  to  fall 
into  very  serious  mistakes  by  a  direct  dereliction  from  his 
duties,  though  he  lived  in  a  never-ceasing  condition  of  small 
divergencies  that  might  at  any  time  lead  him  into  serious 
difficulties.  Nevertheless,  it  was  easy  enough  to  see  he 
had  no  relish  for  Thousandacres'  allusions  to  the  termina 
tion  of  the  days  of  my  excellent  old  friend,  Chainbearer ; 
nor  can  I  say  that  they  gave  me  any  particular  concern, 
for,  while  I  knew  how  desperate  the  squatters  sometimes 
became,  I  had  a  notion  that  this  old  fellow's  bark  would 
prove  worse  than  his  bite,  as  he  had  just  observed  of 
myself. 

"  Esquire,"  is,  as  every  well-informed  person  knows,  a  title  of  honour, 
standing  next  in  degree  below  that  of  knight.  On  the  continent  of 
Europe  the  '  ecuyer'  properly  infers  nobility,  I  believe,  as  nobility  is 
there  considered,  which  is  little,  if  any  more  than  the  condition  of 
the  old  English  gentry,  or  of  the  families  having  coat-armour.  By 
the  English  law,  certain  persons  are  born  esquires,  and  others  have 
the  rank  ex-qfficio.  Among  the  last,  is  a  justice  of  the  peace,  who  is 
legally  an  '  esquire'  during  his  official  term.  Now,  this  rule  prevailed 
in  the  colonies,  and  American  magistrates  were,  perhaps  legally, 
esquires,  as  well  as  the  English.  But,  titles  of  honour  were  abolish 
ed  at  the  revolution,  and  it  is  a  singular  contradiction  in  substance, 
to  hold  that  the  principal  is  destroyed  while  the  incident  remains. 
The  rank  of  esquire  can  no  more  legally  exist  in  America,  than  that 
of  knight.  In  one  sense,  neither  is  noble,  it  is  true ;  but  in  that  broad 
signification  by  which  all  constitutions  are,  and  ought  to  be  inter- 
preted,  both  would  come  within  the  proscribed  category,  as  set  forth 
in  art.  7th,  sect.  9th,  and  art  1st,  sect.  10.  Const.  U.  S.  Nevertheless, 
so  much  stronger  is  custom  than  positive  law,  that  not  only  every 
magistrate,  but  every  lawyer  in  the  country  fancies  himself  peculiarly 
an  '  esquire !'  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that,  by  usage,  the 
appellation  is  given  by  courtesy,  wherever  the  English  language  is 
spoken,  to  all  who  are  supposed  to  belong  to  the  class  of  gentlemen. 
This,  after  all,  is  the  only  true  American  use  of  the  word. — EDITOR. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  261 

It  would  hardly  repay  the  trouble,  were  I  to  attempt  re 
cording  all  that  passed  next  between  our  two  colloquists ; 
although  it  was  a  sufficiently  amusing  exhibition  of  wily 
management  to  frighten  the  squatter  to  part  with  his  lumber 
at  a  low  price,  on  one  side,  and  of  sullen  security  on  the 
other.  The  security  proceeded  from  the  fact  that  Thou- 
sandacres  had  me,  at  that  very  moment,  a  prisoner  in  his 
store-house. 

A  bargain  conducted  on  such  terms  was  not  likely  soon 
to  come  to  a  happy  termination.  After  a  great  deal  of 
chaffering  and  discussing,  the  conference  broke  up,  nothing 
having  been  decided,  by  the  magistrate's  saying— 

"  Well,  Thousandacres,  I  hope  you  '11  have  no  reason  to 
repent ;  but  I  kind  o'  fear  you  will." 

"  The  loss  will  be  mine  and  the  b'ys,  if  I  do,"  was  the 
squatter's  answer.  "  I  know  I  can  get  all  the  boards  into 
the  creek ;  and,  for  that  matter,  into  the  river,  afore  young 
Littlepage  can  do  me  any  harm ;  though  there  is  one  cir 
cumstance  that  may  yet  turn  my  mind — " 

Here  the  squatter  came  to  a  pause  ;  and  Newcome,  who 
had  risen,  turned  short  round,  eagerly,  to  press  the  doubt 
that  he  saw  was  working  in  the  other's  mind. 

"  I  thought  you  would  think  better  of  it,"  he  said ;  "  for, 
it 's  out  of  doubt,  should  major  Litllepage  1'arn  your  pitch, 
that  he  'd  uproot  you,  as  the  winds  uproot  the  fallin'  tree." 

"  No,  'squire,  my  mind  's  made  up,"  Thousandacres 
coolly  rejoined.  "  I  '11  sell,  and  gladly ;  but  not  on  the 
tarms  you  have  named.  Two  pounds  eight  the  thousand  foot, 
board  measure,  and  taking  it  all  round,  clear  stuff  and  refuse, 
without  any  store-pay,  will  carry  off  the  lumber." 

"  Too  much,  Thousandacres  ;  altogether  too  much,  when 
you  consider  the  risks  I  run.  I  'm  not  sartain  that  I  could 
hold  the  lumber,  even  after  I  got  it  into  the  river ;  for  a 
replevy  is  a  formidable  thing  in  law,  I  can  tell  you.  One 
pound  sixteen,  one-third  store-pay,  is  the  utmost  farthin'  I 
can  offer." 

In  that  day  all  our  calculations  were  in  pounds,  shillings 
and  pence. 

"  Then  the  bargain 's  off. — I  s'pose,  squire,  you  Jve  tho 
old  avarsion  to  being  seen  m  my  settlements  ?" 


262  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

"  Sartain  —  sartain,"  answered  Newcome,  in  haste. 
"  There 's  no  danger  of  that,  I  hope.  You  cannot  well 
have  strangers  among  you !" 

"  I  wunt  answer  for  that.  I  see  some  of  the  b'ys  coming 
out  of  the  woods,  yonder ;  and  it  seems  to  me  there  is  a 
fourth  man  with  them.  There  is,  of  a  sartainty  ;  and  it  is 
no  other  than  Susquesus,  the  Onondago.  The  fellow  is 
cluss-mouthed,  like  most  red-skins  ;  but  you  can  say  best 
whether  you  'd  like  to  be  seen  by  him,  or  not.  I  hear  he 's 
a  great  fri'nd  of  Chainbearer's." 

It  was  very  evident  that  the  magistrate  decided,  at  once, 
in  the  negative.  With  a  good  deal  of  decent  haste  he 
dodged  round  a  pile  of  logs,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  him  until 
I  caught  a  distant  view  of  his  person  in  the  skirts  of  the 
woods,  at  the  point  whence  he  had  issued  into  the  clearing, 
two  hours  before,  and  where  he  now  received  his  horse  from 
the  hands  of  the  youngest  of  Thousandacre's  sons,  who  led 
the  animal  to  the  spot  for  his  especial  accommodation.  Mr. 
Newcome  was  no  sooner  in  possession  of  his  beast,  again, 
than  he  mounted  and  rode  away  into  the  depths  of  the  forest. 
So  adroitly  was  this  retreat  conducted,  that  no  person  of 
ordinary  observation  could  possibly  have  detected  it,  unless 
indeed  his  attention  had  been  previously  drawn  to  the  move 
ment. 

What  passed,  at  parting,  between  Thousandacres  and  his 
visiter,  I  never  knew ;  but  they  must  have  been  altogether 
alone,  for  a  few  minutes.  When  the  former  re-appeared, 
be  came  out  from  behind  the  logs,  his  whole  attention  seem 
ingly  fastened  on  the  approaching  party,  composed  of  his 
sons  and  Susquesus.  Those  resolute  and  practised  men  had, 
indeed,  overtaken  and  captured  the  Onondago,  and  were 
now  bringing  him,  a  prisoner,  unarmed,  in  their  midst,  to 
receivf;  the  commands  of  their  father!  Notwithstanding 
all  that  I  knew  of  this  man,  and  of  his  character,  there  was 
something  imposing  in  the  manner  in  which  he  now  waited 
for  the  arrival  of  his  sons  and  their  prisoner.  Accustomed 
to  exercise  an  almost  absolute  sway  in  his  own  family,  the 
old  man  had  acquired  some  of  the  dignity  of  authority  ;  and 
as  for  his  posterity,  old  and  young,  male  and  female,  not 
excepting  Prudence,  they  had  gained  very  little  in  the  way 
of  freedom,  by  throwing  aside  the  trammels  of  regular  and 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  263 

recognised  law,  to  live  under  the  rule  of  their  patriarch. 
In  this  respect  they  might  be  likened  to  the  masses,  who,  in 
a  blind  pursuit  of  liberty,  impatiently  cast  away  the  legal 
and  healthful  restraints  of  society,  to  submit  to  the  arbitrary, 
selfish,  and  ever  unjust  dictation  of  demagogues.  What 
ever  difference  there  might  be  between  the  two  governments, 
was  in  favour  of  that  of  the  squatter,  who  possessed  the 
feelings  of  nature  in  behalf  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  and 
was  consequently  often  indulgent. 

It  is  so  difficult  to  read  an  Indian's  mind  in  his  manner, 
that  I  did  not  expect  to  ascertain  the  state  of  the  Onondago's 
feelings  by  the  countenance  he  wore,  on  drawing  near.  In 
exterior,  this  man  was  as  calm  and  unmoved  as  if  just 
arrived  on  a  friendly  visit.  His  captors  had  bound  him, 
fearful  he  might  elude  them,  in  some  of  the  thickets  they 
had  been  compelled  to  pass ;  but  the  thongs  seemed  to  give 
him  neither  mental  nor  bodily  concern.  Old  Thousandacres 
was  stern  in  aspect ;  but  he  had  too  much  experience  in 
Indian  character — knew  too  well  the  unforgiving  nature  of 
the  Indians'  dispositions,  or  the  enduring  memories  that  for 
got  neither  favours  nor  injuries,  to  wantonly  increase  the 
feeling  that  must  naturally  have  been  awakened  between  him 
and  his  prisoner. 

"Trackless,"  he  said,  considerately,  "you're  an  old 
warrior,  and  must  know  that  in  troubled  times  every  man 
must  look  out  for  himself.  I  'm  glad  the  b'ys  warn't  driven 
to  do  you  any  harm ;  but  it  would  never  have  done  to  let 
you  carry  the  tidings  of  what  has  happened  here,  this  morn 
ing,  to  Chainbearer  and  his  gang.  How  long  I  may  have 
to  keep  you,  is  more  than  I  know  myself;  but  your  treat 
ment  shall  be  good,  and  your  wilcome  warm,  so  long  as 
you  give  no  trouble.  I  know  what  a  red-skin's  word  is ; 
and  maybe,  a'ter  thinkin'  on  it  a  little,  I  may  let  you  out  to 
wander  about  the  clearin',  provided  you  'd  give  your  parole 
not  to  go  off.  I  '11  think  on 't,  and  let  you  know  to-morrow; 
but  to-day  I  must  put  you  in  the  store'us'  along  with  the 
young  chap  that  you  travelled  here  with." 

Thousandacres  then  demanded  of  his  sons  an  account  of 
the  manner  in  which  they  had  taken  their  captive  ;  which 
it  is  unnecessary  to  relate  here,  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
give  it  directly  in  the  language  of  the  Indian  himself.  Aa 


264  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

soon  as  satisfied  on  this  head,  the  door  of  my  prison  was 
opened,  and  the  Onondago  entered  it,  unbound,  without 
manifesting  the  smallest  shade  of  regret,  or  any  resistance. 
Everthing  was  done  in  a  very  lock-up  sort  of  manner ;  the 
new  prisoner  being  no  sooner  *  permitted,'  than  the  door  was 
secured,  and  I  was  left  alone  with  Sureflint ;  one  of  the 
younger  girls  now  remaining  near  the  building  as  a  sentinel. 
I  waited  a  moment,  to  make  certain  we  were  alone,  when  I 
opened  the  communications  with  my  friend. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  this,  Sureflint,"  I  commenced,  "  for 
I  had  hoped  your  knowledge  of  the  woods,  and  practice  on 
trails,  would  have  enabled  you  to  throw  off  your  pursuers, 
that  you  might  have  carried  the  news  of  my  imprisonment 
to  our  friends.  This  is  a  sore  disappointment  to  me ; 
having  made  sure  you  would  let  Chainbearer  know  where  I 
am."  • 

"  W'y  t'ink  different,  now,  eh  ?  S'pose,  'cause  Injin  pri 
soner,  can't  help  himself?" 

"  You  surely  do  not  mean  that  you  are  here  with  your 
own  consent  ?" 

"  Sartain. — S'pose  no  want  to  come  ;  am  no  come.  You 
t'ink  Thousandacre's  b'ys  catch  Susquesus  in  woods,  and 
he  don't  want  to?  Be  sure,  winter  come,  and  summer 
come.  Be  sure,  gray  hair  come  a  little.  Be  sure,  Track 
less  get  ole,  by-'m-bye ;  but  he  moccasin  leave  no  trail 
yet !" 

"  As  I  cannot  understand  why  you  should  first  escape, 
and  then  wish  to  come  back,  I  must  beg  you  to  explain 
yourself.  Let  me  know  all  that  has  passed,  Sureflint — how 
it  has  passed,  and  why  it  has  passed.  Tell  it  in  your  own 
way,  but  tell  it  fully." 

"Sartain  —  Why  no  tell?  No  harm;  all  good  —  some 
t'ing  capital !  Nebber  hab  better  luck." 

"  You  excite  my  curiosity,  Sureflint ;  tell  the  whole  story 
at  once,  beginning  at  the  time  when  you  slipped  off,  and 
carrying  it  down  to  the  moment  of  your  arrival  here." 

Hereupon,  Susquesus  turned  on  me  a  significant  look, 
drew  his  pipe  from  his  belt,  filled  and  lighted  it,  and  began 
to  smoke  with  a  composure  that  was  not  easily  disturbed. 
As  soon  as  assured  that  his  pipe  was  in  a  proper  state,  how 
ever,  the  Indian  quietly  began  his  story. 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  265 

<c  Now  listen,,  you  hear,"  he  said.  "  Run  away,  'cause 
no  good  to  stay  here,  and  be  prisoner — dat  why." 

"  But  you  are  a  prisoner,  as  it  is,  as  well  as  myself;  and, 
by  your  statement,  a  prisoner  with  your  own  consent." 

"  Sartain  —  nebber  hab  been  prisoner,  won't  be  prisoner, 
if  don't  want  to.  S'pose  shot,  den  can't  help  him ;  but  in 
woods,  Injin  nebber  prisoner,  'less  lazy,  or  drunk.  Rum 
make  great  many  prisoner." 

"  I  can  believe  all  this — but  tell  me  the  story.  Why  did 
you  go  off  at  first  ?"• 

"  S'pose  don't  want  Chainbearer  know  where  be,  eh  ? 
T'ink  T'ousandacre  ebber  let  you  go  while  board  in  stream  ? 
When  board  go,  he  go ;  not  afore.  Stay  all  summer  ;  want 
to  live  in  store-'us'  all  summer,  eh  ?" 

"  Certainly  not  —  Well,  you  left  me,  in  order  to  let  our 
friends  know  where  I  was,  that  they  might  cast  about  for 
the  means  of  getting  me  free.  All  this  I  understand ;  what 
next?" 

"  Next,  go  off  in  wood.  Easy  'nough  to  slip  off  when 
T'ousandacre  no  look.  Well,  went  about  two  mile ;  leave 
no  trail  —  bird  make  as  much  in  air.  What  s'pose  meet, 
eh?" 

"  I  wait  for  you  to  tell  me." 

"  Meet  Jaap — yes — meet  nigger.  Look  for  young  master 
— ebbery  body  in  trouble,  and  won'er  where  young  chief 
be.  Some  look  here — some  look  out  yonder — all  look  some 
where — Jaap  look  just  dere." 

"  And  you  told  Jaap  the  whole  story,  and  sent  him  back 
to  the  huts  with  it !" 

"Sartain — just  so.  Make  good  guess  dat  time.  Den 
t'ink  what  do,  next.  Want  to  come  back  and  help  young 
pale-face  frien' ;  so  t'ought  get  take  prisoner  one  time.  Like 
to  know  how  he  feel  to  be  prisoner  one  time.  No  feel  so 
bad  as  s'pose.  Squatter  no  hard  master  for  prisoner." 

"  But  how  did  all  this  happen,  and  in  what  manner  have 
you  misled  the  young  men?" 

"  No  hard  to  do  at  all.    All  he  want  is  know  how.    A'ter 

Jaap  get  his  ar'n'd,  and  go  off,  made  trail  plain  'nough  for 

squaw  to  find.     Travel  to  a  spring  —  sit  down  and  put  rifle 

away  off,  so  no  need  shoot,  and  let  squatter's  boys  catch 

23 


265  THE    CHAINBEARER, 

me,  by  what  you  call  s'prise ;  yes,  'e  pale-faces  s'prise  red- 
man  dat  time !  Warrant  he  brag  on 't,  well !" 

Here,  then,  was  the  simple  explanation  of  it  all !  Sus- 
quesus  had  stolen  away,  in  order  10  apprise  my  friends  of  my 
situation ;  he  had  fallen  in  with  Jaap,  or  Jaaf,  in  search  of 
his  lost  master ;  and,  communicating  all  the  circumstances 
to  the  negro,  had  artfully  allowed  himself  to  be  re-captured, 
carefully  avoiding  a  struggle,  and  had  been  brought  back 
and  placed  by  my  side.  No  explanations  were  necessary 
to  point  out  the  advantages.  By  communicating  with  the 
negro,  who  had  been  familiar  for  years  with  the  clipped 
manner  of  the  Indian's  mode  of  speaking  English,  every 
thing  would  be  made  known  to  Chainbearer ;  by  suffering 
himself  to  be  taken,  the  squatters  were  led  by  Sureflint  to 
suppose  our  capture  and  their  "  pitch"  remained  secrets ; 
while,  by  re-joining  me,  I  should  have  the  presence,  counsel 
and  assistance  of  a  most  tried  friend  of  my  father's  and 
Chainbearer's,  in  the  event  of  necessity. 

This  brief  summary  of  his  reasoning  shows  the  admira 
ble  sagacity  of  the  Onondago,  who  had  kept  in  view  every 
requisite  of  his  situation,  and  failed  in  nothing. 

I  was  delighted  with  the  address  of  Sureflint,  as  well  as 
touched  by  his  fidelity.  In  the  course  of  our  conversation, 
he  gave  me  to  understand  that  my  disappearance  and  ab 
sence  for  an  entire  night  had  produced  great  consternation 
in  the  huts,  and  that  everybody  was  out  in  quest  of  me  and 
himself,  at  the  time  when  he  so  opportunely  fell  in  with 
Jaap. 

"Gal  out,  too"  —  added  the  Onondago,  significantly. 
"  S'pose  good  reason  for  dat." 

This  startled  me  a  little,  for  I  had  a  vague  suspicion  that 
Susquesus  must  have  been  an  unseen  observer  of  my  inter 
view  with  Ursula  Malbone ;  and  noticing  my  manner  on 
rushing  from  her  cabin,  had  been  induced  to  follow  me,  as 
has  been  related.  The  reader  is  not  to  suppose  that  my  late 
adventures  had  driven  Dus  from  my  mind.  So  far  from 
this,  I  thought  of  her  incessantly  ;  and  the  knowledge  that 
she  took  so  much  interest  in  me  as  to  roam  the  woods  in 
the  search,  had  no  tendency  to  lessen  the  steadiness  or  in 
tensity  of  my  reflections.  Nevertheless,  common  humanity 
might  induce  one  of  her  energy  and  activity  to  do  as  much 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  267 

as  this ;  and  had  I  not  her  own  declaration  that  she  was 
plighted  to  another ! 

After  getting  his  whole  story,  I  consulted  the  Indian  on 
the  subject  of  our  future  proceedings.  He  was  of  opinion 
that  we  had  better  wait  the  movements  of  our  friends,  from 
whom  we  must  hear  in  some  mode  or  other,  in  the  course 
of  the  approaching  night,  or  of  the  succeeding  day.  What 
course  Chainbearer  might  see  fit  to  pursue,  neither  of  us 
could  conjecture,  though  both  felt  assured  he  never  would 
remain  quiet  with  two  as  fast  friends  as  ourselves  in  durance. 
My  great  concern  was  that  he  might  resort  at  once  to  force , 
for  old  Andries  had  a  fiery  spirit,  though  one  that  was  emi 
nently  just ;  and  he  had  been  accustomed  to  see  gunpbwder 
burned  from  his  youth  upward.  Should  he,  on  the  other 
hand,  resort  to  legal  means,  and  apply  to  Mr.  Newcome  for 
warrants  to  arrest  my  captors,  as  men  guilty  of  illegal  per 
sonal  violence,  a  course  it  struck  me  Frank  Maibone  would 
be  very  apt  to  advise,  what  might  I  not  expect  from  the 
collusion  of  the  magistrate,  in  the  way  of  frauds,  delays 
and  private  machinations  ?  In  such  a  case,  there  would  be 
time  to  send  me  to  some  other  place  of  concealment,  and 
the  forest  must  have  a  hundred  such  that  were  accessible  to 
my  new  masters,  while  their  friend  Newcome  would  scarcely 
fail  to  let  them  have  timely  notice  of  the  necessity  of  some 
such  step.  Men  acting  in  conformity  with  the  rules  of  right, 
fulfilling  the  requirements  of  the  law,  and  practising  virtue, 
might  be  so  remiss  as  not  to  send  information  of  such  an 
impending  danger ;  for  such  persons  are  only  too  apt  to  rely 
on  the  integrity  of  their  own  characters,  and  to  put  their 
trust  on  the  laws  of  Providence ;  but  rogues,  certain  that 
they  can  have  no  such  succour,  depend  mainly  on  them 
selves,  recognizing  the  well-known  principle  of  Frederick 
the  Great,  who  thought  it  a  safe  rule  to  suppose  that  "  Pro 
vidence  was  usually  on  the  side  of  strong  battalions."  1 
felt  certain,  therefore,  that  squire  Newcome  would  let  his 
friends  at  the  "  clearing"  know  all  that  was  plotting  against 
them,  as  soon  as  he  knew  it  himself. 

The  squatters  were  not  unkind  to  us  prisoners  ii  the  way 
of  general  treatment.  Certainly  I  had  every  right  to  com 
plain  of  the  particular  wrong  they  did  me ;  but,  otherwise, 
they  were  sufficiently  considerate  and  liberal  throughout  that 


268  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

day.  Our  fare  wae  their  own.  We  had  water  brought  in 
fresh  by  Lowiny  no  fewer  than  five  several  times ,-  and  so 
attentive  to  my  supposed  wants  was  this  girl,  that  she  actually 
brought  me  every  book  that  was  to  be  found  in  all  the  libra 
ries  of  the  family.  These  were  but  three — a  fragment  of  a 
bible,  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  an  almanac  that  was  four 
years  old. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

**  I  mark'd  his  desultory  pace, 
His  gestures  strange,  and  varying  face, 
With  many  a  muttered  sound ; 
And  ah  !  too  late,  aghast,  I  view'd 
The  reeking  blade,  the  hand  embru'd  : 
He  fell,  and  groaning  grasp'd  in  agony  the  ground." 

WARTON. 

IN  this  manner  passed  that  long  and  wearying  day.  I 
could,  and  did  take  exercise,  by  walking  to  and  fro  in  my 
prison ;  but  the  Indian  seldom  stirred,  from  the  moment  he 
entered.  As  for  the  squatter  himself,  he  came  no  more  near 
the  storehouse,  though  I  saw  him,  two  or  three  times  in  the 
course  of  the  day,  in  private  conference  with  his  elder  sons, 
most  probably  consulting  on  my  case.  At  such  moments, 
their  manner  was  serious,  and  there  were  instants  when  I 
fancied  it  menacing. 

Provision  was  made  for  our  comfort  by  throwing  a  suffi- 
jient  number  of  bundles  of  straw  into  the  prison,  and  my 
ellow-captive  and  myself  had  each  a  sufficiently  comforta 
ble  bed.  A  soldier  was  not  to  be  frightened  at  sleeping  on 
straw,  moreover ;  and,  as  for  Susquesus,  he  asked  for  no 
more  than  room  to  stretch  himself,  though  it  were  even  on  a 
rock.  An  Indian  loves  his  ease,  and  takes  it  when  it  comes 
n  his  way ;  but  it  is  really  amazing  to  what  an  extent  his 
powers  of  endurance  go,  when  it  becomes  necessary  for  him 
to  ex«rt  them. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  night  I  slept  profoundly,  as  I  be 
lieve  did  the  Indian.  I  must  acknowledge  that  an  uncom 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  269 

fortable  distrust  existed  in  my  mind,  that  had  some  slight 
effect  in  keeping  me  from  slumbering,  though  fatigue  soon 
overcame  the  apprehensions  such  a  feeling  would  be  likely 
to  awaken.  I  did  not  know  but  Thousandacres  and  his  sons 
might  take  it  into  their  heads  to  make  away  with  the  Indian 
and  myself  under  cover  of  the  darkness,  as  the  most  effec 
tual  means  of  protecting  themselves  against  the  consequences 
of  their  past  depredations,  and  of  securing  the  possession  of 
those  that  they  had  projected  for  the  future.  We  were  com 
pletely  in  their  power,  and,  so  far  as  the  squatter  knew,  the 
secret  of  our  visit  would  die  with  us ;  the  knowledge  of 
those  of  his  own  flesh  and  blood  possessed  on  the  subject 
excepted.  Notwithstanding  these  thoughts  crossed  my  mind, 
and  did  give  me  some  little  uneasiness,  they  were  not  suffi 
ciently  active  or  sufficiently  prominent  to  prevent  me  from 
slumbering,  after  I  had  fairly  fallen  asleep,  without  awaking 
once,  until  it  was  three  o'clock,  or  within  an  hour  of  the 
approach  of  day. 

I  am  not  certain  that  any  external  cause  aroused  me  from 
my  slumbers.  But,  I  well  remember  that  I  lay  there  on  my 
straw,  meditating  for  some  time,  half  asleep  and  half  awake, 
until  I  fancied  I  heard  the  musical  voice  of  Dus,  murmuring 
in  my  ear  my  own  name.  This  illusion  lasted  some  little 
time ;  when,  as  my  faculties  gradually  resumed  their  powers, 
I  became  slowly  convinced  that  some  one  was  actually  call 
ing  me,  and  by  name  too,  within  a  foot  or  two  of  my  ears. 
I  could  not  be  mistaken ;  the  fact  was  so,  and  the  call  was 
in  a  woman's  tones.  Springing  up,  I  demanded — 

"  Who  is  here  1  In  the  name  of  heaven  can  this  really 
be  Miss  Malbone — Dus  !" 

"  My  name  is  Lowiny,"  answered  my  visitor,  "  and  I  'm 
Thousandacres'  da'ghter.  But,  don't  speak  so  loud,  for 
there  is  one  of  the  b'ys  on  the  watch  at  the  other  end  of  the 
store'us',  and  you  '11  wake  him  up  unless  you  're  careful." 

"  Lowiny,  is  it  you,  my  good  girl  ?  Not  content  to  care 
for  us  throughout  the  day,  you  still  have  a  thought  for  us 
during  the  night !" 

I  thought  the  girl  felt  embarrassed,  for  she  must  have 

been  conscious  of  having  a  little  trespassed  on  the  usages 

and  reserve  of  her  sex.    It  is  rare,  indeed,  that  any  mother, 

find  especially  an  American  mother,  ever  falls  so  low  as 

23* 


270  THE     CHA.INBEARER. 

completely  to  become  unsexed  in  feelings  and  character, 
and  rarer  still  that  she  forgets  to  impart  many  of  the  de 
cencies  of  woman  to  her  daughter.  Old  Prudence,  notwith 
standing  the  life  she  led,  and  .the  many  causes  of  corruption 
and  backslidings  that  existed  around  her,  was  true  to  her 
native  instincts,  and  had  taught  to  her  girls  many  of  those 
little  proprieties  that  become  so  great  charms  in  woman. 

Lowiny  was  far  from  disagreeable  in  person,  and  had  the 
advantage  of  being  youthful  in  appearance,  as  well  as  in 
fact.  In  addition  to  these  marks  of  her  sex,  she  had  mani 
fested  an  interest  in  my  fate,  from  the  first,  that  had  not 
escaped  me;  and  here  she  was  now  doubtless  on  some 
errand  of  which  the  object  was  our  good.  My  remark  em 
barrassed  her,  however,  and  a  few  moments  passed  before 
she  got  entirely  over  the  feeling.  As  soon  as  she  did,  she 
again  spoke. 

"  I  don't  think  anything  of  bringing  you  and  the  Injin  a 
little  water,"  she  said — laying  an  emphasis  on  the  words  I 
have  put  in  Italics — "  nor  should  I  had  we  any  beer  or  sap- 
cider  instead.  But  all  our  spruce  is  out ;  and  father  said  he 
wouldn't  have  any  more  of  the  cider  made,  seein'  that  we 
want  all  the  sap  for  sugar.  I  hope  you  had  a  plentiful  sup 
per,  Mr.  Littlepage ;  and  for  fear  you  hadn't,  I  've  brought 
you  and  the  red-skin  a  pitcher  of  milk  and  a  bowl  of  hasty- 
pudding — he  can  eat  a'ter  you  've  done,  you  know." 

I  thanked  my  kind-hearted  friend,  and  received  her  gift 
through  a  hole  that  she  pointed  out  to  me.  The  food,  in  the 
end,  proved  very  acceptable,  as  subsequent  circumstances 
caused  our  regular  breakfast  to  be  forgotten  for  a  time.  I 
was  desirous  of  ascertaining  from  this  girl  what  was  said  or 
contemplated  among  her  relatives,  on  the  subject  of  my 
future  fate;  but  felt  a  nearly  unconquerable  dislike  to  be 
prying  into  what  was  a  species  of  family  secrets,  by  putting 
direct  questions  to  her.  Fortunately,  the  commnnicative 
and  friendly  disposition  of  Lowiny,  herself,  soon  removed 
all  necessity  for  any  such  step ;  for  after  executing  her 
main  purpose,  she  lingered  with  an  evident  wish  to  gossip. 

"  I  wish  father  wouldn't  be  a  squatter  any  longer,"  the 
girl  said,  with  an  earnestness  that  proved  she  was  uttering 
her  real  sentiments.  "  It 's  awful  to  be  for  ever  fighting 
ag'in  law !" 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  271 

**  It  would  be  far  better  if  he  would  apply  to  some  land 
owner,  and  get  a  farm  on  lease,  or  by  purchase.  Land  is 
so  plenty,  in  this  country,  no  man  need  go  without  a  legal 
interest  in  his  hundred  acres,  provided  he  be  only  sober  and 
industrious." 

"  Father  never  drinks,  unless  it 's  on  the  Fourth  of  July; 
and  the  b'ys  be  all  pretty  sober,  too,  as  young  men  go, 
now-a-days.  I  believe,  Mr.  Littlepage,  if  mother  has  told 
father  once,  she  has  told  him  a  thousand  times,  that  she 
doos  wish  he  'd  leave  off  squatting,  and  take  writin's  for 
some  piece  of  land  or  other.  But  father  says,  *  no — he 
warn't  made  for  writin's,  nor  writin's  for  him.'  He 's  des- 
p'ately  troubled  to  know  what  to  do  with  you,  now  he  's  got 
you." 

"  Did  Mr.  Newcome  give  no  opinion  on  the  subject, 
while  he  was  with  you  ?" 

"  'Squire  Newcome  !  Father  never  let  on  to  him  a  sylla 
ble  about  ever  having  seen  you.  He  knows  too  much  to 
put  himself  in  'squire  Newcome's  power,  sin'  his  lumber 
would  go  all  the  cheaper  for  it — What 's  your  opinion,  Mr. 
Litllepage,  about  our  right  to  the  boards,  when  we  've  cut, 
and  hauled,  and  sawed  the  logs  with  our  own  hands.  Don't 
that  make  some  difference  ?" 

"  What  is  your  opinion  of  your  right  to  a  gown  that 
another  girl  has  made  out  of  calico  she  had  taken  from  your 
drawer,  when  your  back  was  turned,  and  carried  away,  and 
cut,  and  stitched,  and  sewed  with  her  own  hands  1" 

"  She  never  would  have  any  right  to  my  calico,  let  her 
cut  it  as  much  as  she  might.  But  lumber  is  made  out  of 
trees." 

"  And  trees  have  owners,  just  as  much  as  calicoes. 
Hauling,  and  cutting,  and  sawing  can,  of  themselves,  give 
no  man  a  right  to  another  man's  logs." 

"  I  was  afeard  it  was  so — "  answered  Lowiny,  sighing 
so  loud  as  to  be  heard.  "  There 's  suthin'  in  that  old  bible 
I  lent  you  that  I  read  pretty  much  in  that  way  ;  though 
Tobit,  and  most  of  the  b'ys  say  it  don't  mean  any  sich 
thing.  They  say  there 's  nothin'  about  lumber  in  the  bible, 
at  all." 

"  And  what  does  your  mother  tell  you  on  this  head  1" 

"  Why,  mother  don't  talk  about  it.     Sho  wants  father  to 


272  THE     CHA1NBEARER. 

lease,  or  buy :  but  you  know  how  it  is  with  women,  Mr. 
Littlepage ;  when  their  fri'nds  act,  it 's  all  the  same  as  a 
law  to  them  to  try  to  think  that  they  act  right.  Mother 
never  says  any  thing  to  us  about  the  lawfulness  of  father's 
doin's,  though  she  often  wishes  he  would  live  under  writin's. 
Mother  wants  father  to  try  and  get  writin's  of  you,  now 
you  're  here,  and  in  his  hands.  Wouldn't  you  give  us 
writin's,  Mr.  Littlepage,  if  we  'd  promise  to  give  you  suthin' 
for  rent  ?" 

"  If  I  did,  they  would  be  good  for  nothing,  unless  I  were 
free,  and  among  friends.  Deeds  and  leases  got  from  men 
who  are  '  in  the  hands,'  as  you  call  it,  of  those  who  take 
them,  are  of  no  value." 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  that — "  rejoined  Lowiny,  with  another 
sigh — "  not  that  I  wanted  you  to  be  driven  into  any  thing, 
but,  I  thought  if  you  would  only  consent  to  let  father  have 
writin's  for  this  clearin',  it 's  so  good  a  time  to  do  it  now, 
'twould  be  a  pity  to  lose  it.  If  it  can't  be  done,  however, 
it  can't,  and  there 's  no  use  in  complaining.  Father  thinks 
he  can  hold  you  'till  the  water  rises,  in  the  fall,  and  the 
b'ys  have  run  all  the  lumber  down  to  Albany ;  a'ter  which, 
he  '11  not  be  so  partic'lar  about  keepin'  you  any  longer,  and 
may  be  he  '11  let  you  go." 

"  Hold  me  until  the  water  rises  !  Why  that  will  not  take 
place  these  three  months  !" 

"Well,  Mr.  Li'tlepage,  three  months  don't  seem  to  me 
sich  a  desp'ate  long  time,  when  a-body  is  among  fri'nds. 
We  should  treat  you  as  well  as  we  know  how,  that  you 
may  depend  on-  -I'll  answer  for  it,  you  shall  want  for 
nothin'  that  we  Vn  got  to  give." 

"  I  dare  say,  my  excellent  girl,  but  I  should  be  extremely 
sorry  to  trouble  your  family  with  so  long  a  visit.  As  for 
the  boards,  I  ha\e  no  power  to  waive  the  rights  of  the 
owners  of  the  land  to  that  property;  my  power  being 
merely  to  sell  lots  to  actual  settlers." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,"  answered  Lowiny  in  a  gentle 
tone,  that  fully  confirmed  her  words  ;  "  for  father  and  the 
b'ys  be  really  awl  ul  about  any  thing  that  touches  their  pro 
fits  for  work  done.  They  say  their  flesh  and  blood's  in 
them  boards,  and  flesh  and  blood  shall  go,  afore  the  boards 
shall  go.  It  make*  my  blood  run  cold  to  hear  the  way  they 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  273 

do  talk  !  I'm  not  a  bit  skeary ;  and,  last  winter  when  1 
shot  the  bear  that  was  a'ter  the  store-hogs,  mother  said  I 
acted  as  well  as  she  could  have  done  herself,  and  she  has 
killed  four  bears  and  near  upon  twenty  wolves,  in  her  time. 
Yes,  mother  said  I  behaved  like  her  own  da'ghter,  and  that 
she  set  twice  the  store  by  me  that  she  did  before." 

"  You  are  a  brave  girl,  Lowiny,  and  an  excellent  one  in 
the  main,  I  make  no  question.  Whatever  become  of  me,  I 
shall  not  forget  your  kindness  as  long  as  I  live.  It  will  be 
a  very  serious  matter,  however,  to  your  friends  to  attempt 
keeping  me  here  three  or  four  months,  as  mine  will  certainly 
have  a  search  for  me,  when  this  clearing  would  be  found. 
I  need  not  tell  you  what  would  be  the  consequence." 

"  What  can — what  will  father  and  the  b'ys  do  1  I  can't 
bear  to  think  on't  —  Oh  !  they  '11  not  have  the  hearts  to  try 
to  put  you  out  of  the  way !" 

"  I  should  hope  not,  for  their  own  sakes,  and  for  the 
credit  of  the  American  name.  We  are  not  a  nation  addicted 
to  such  practices,  and  I  should  really  regret  to  learn  that 
we  have  made  so  long  a  step  towards  the  crimes  of  older 
countries.  But,  there  is  little  danger  of  anything  of  the  sort, 
after  all,  my  good  Lowiny." 

"  I  hope  so,  too,"  the  girl  answered  in  a  low,  tremulous 
voice ;  "  though  Tobit  is  a  starn  bein'  sometimes.  He 
makes  father  worse  than  he  would  be,  if  let  alone,  I  know. 
But,  I  must  go,  now.  It 's  near  day-light,  and  I  hear  'em 
stirrin'  in  Tobit's  house.  It  would  cost  me  dear  did  any 
on  'em  know  I  had  been  out  of  my  bed,  talking  to  you." 

As  this  was  said,  the  girl  vanished.  Before  I  could  find 
an  aperture  to  watch  her  movements,  she  had  disappeared. 
Susquesus  arose  a  few  minutes  later,  but  he  never  made 
any  allusion  to  the  secret  visit  of  the  girl.  In  this  respect, 
he  observed  the  most  scrupulous  delicacy,  never  letting  me 
know  by  hint,  look,  or  smile,  that  he  had  been  in  the  least 
conscious  of  her  presence. 

Day  came  as  usual,  but  it  did  not  find  these  squatters  in 
their  beds.  They  appeared  with  the  dawn,  and  most  of 
them  were  at  work  ere  the  broad  light  of  the  sun  was  shed 
on  the  forest.  Most  of  the  men  went  down  into  the  river, 
and  busied  themselves,  as  we  supposed,  for  we  could  not  see 
them,  in  the  water,  with  the  apples  of  their  eyes,  their 


274  THE     CHAINBEAKER. 

boards.  Old  Thousandacres,  however,  chose  to  remain 
near  his  habitation,  keeping  two  or  three  well-grown  lads 
about  him ;  probably  adverting  in  his  mind  to  the  vast 
importance  it  was  to  all  of  his  race,  to  make  sure  of  his 
prisoners.  I  could  see  by  the  thoughtful  manner  of  the  old 
squatter,  as  he  lounged  around  his  mill,  among  his  swine, 
and  walked  through  his  potatoes,  that  his  mind  wavered 
greatly  as  to  the  course  he  ought  to  pursue,  and  that  he  was 
sorely  troubled.  How  long  this  perplexity  of  feeling  would 
have  continued,  and  to  what  it  might  have  led,  it  is  hard  to 
say,  had  it  not  been  cut  short  by  an  incident  of  a  very  un 
expected  nature,  and  one  that  called  for  more  immediate 
decision  and  action.  I  shall  relate  the  occurrence  a  little 
in  detail. 

The  day  was  considerably  advanced,  and,  Thousandacres 
and  the  girl  who  then  watched  the  store-house  excepted, 
everybody  was  occupied.  Even  Susquesus  had  picked  up 
a  piece  of  birch,  and,  with  a  melancholy  countenance,  that 
I  fancied  was  shadowing  forth  the  future  life  of  a  half-civil 
ized  red-man,  was  attempting  to  make  a  broom  with  a  part 
of  a  knife  that  he  had  found  in  the  building ;  while  I  was 
sketching,  on  a  leaf  of  my  pocket-book,  the  mill  and  a  bit 
of  mountain-land  that  served  it  for  a  back-ground.  Thou 
sandacres,  for  the  first  time  that  morning,  drew  near  our 
prison,  and  spoke  to  me.  His  countenance  was  severe,  yet 
I  could  see  he  was  much  troubled.  As  I  afterwards  ascer 
tained,  Tobit  had  been  urging  on  him  the  necessity  of  put 
ting  both  myself  and  the  Indian  to  death,  as  the  only  pro 
bable  means  that  offered  to  save  the  lumber. 

"  Young  man,"  said  Thousandacres,  "  you  have  stolen 
on  me  and  mine  like  a  thief  at  night,  and  you  ought  to 
expect  the  fate  of  one.  How  in  natur'  can  you  expect  men 
will  give  up  their  hard  'arnin's  without  a  struggle  and  a 
fight  for  'em  ?  You  tempt  me  more  than  I  can  bear  !" 

I  felt  the  fearful  import  of  these  words;  but  human 
nature  revolted  at  the  thought  of  being  cowed  into  any  sub 
mission,  or  terms  unworthy  of  my  character,  or  late  profes 
sion.  I  was  on  the  point  of  making  an  answer  in  entire 
consonance  with  this  feeling,  when,  in  looking  through  the 
chinks  of  my  prison  to  fasten  an  eye  on  my  old  tyrant,  I 
saw  Chainbearer  advancing  directly  towards  the  store-house, 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  275 

and  already  within  a  hundred  yards  of  us.  The  manner  in 
which  I  gazed  at  this  apparition  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  squatter,  who  turned  and  first  saw  the  unexpected  visiter 
who  approached.  At  the  next  minute,  Andries  was  at  his 
side. 

"  So,  T'ousantacres,  I  fint  you  here  !"  exclaimed  Chain- 
bearer.  "  It 's  a  goot  many  years  since  you  and  I  met,  and 
I  'm  sorry  we  meet  now  on  such  pusiness  as  t'is !" 

"  The  meetin  's  of  your  own  seekin',  Chainbearer.  I  Ve 
neither  invited  nor  wished  for  your  company." 

"  I  p'lieve  you  wit'  all  my  heart.  No,  no ;  you  wish  for 
no  chains  and  no  chainpearers,  no  surfeyors  and  no  com 
passes,  no  lots  and  no  owners,  too,  put  a  squatter.  You  and 
I  haf  not  to  make  an  acquaintance  for  t'e  first  time,  Thou- 
sandacres,  after  knowin'  each  other  for  fifty  years." 

"  Yes,  we  do  know  each  other  for  fifty  years ;  and  seein' 
that  them  years  haven't  sarved  to  bring  us  of  a  mind  on 
any  one  thing,  we  should  have  done  better  to  keep  apart, 
than  to  come  together  now." 

"  I  haf  come  for  my  poy,  squatter — my  nople  poy,  whom 
you  haf  illegally  arrestet,  and  mate  a  prisoner,  in  the  teet'  of 
all  law  and  justice.  Gif  me  pack  Mortaunt  Littlepage,  and 
you  Ml  soon  be  rit  of  my  company  !" 

"  And  how  do  you  know  that  I  've  ever  seen  your  '  Mor 
taunt  Littlepage?'  What  have  I  to  do  with  your  boy,  that 
you  seek  him  of  me?  Go  your  ways,  go  your  ways,  old 
Chainbearer,  and  let  me  and  mine  alone.  The  world  's 
wide  enough  for  us  both,  I  tell  you ;  and  why  should  you  be 
set  on  your  own  ondoin',  by  runnin'  ag'in  a  breed  like  that 
which  comes  of  Aaron  and  Prudence  Timberman  ?" 

"  I  care  not  for  you  or  your  preet,"  answered  old  Andries 
sternly.  ««  You  've  darest  to  arrest  my  frient,  against  law 
and  right,  and  I  come  to  demant  his  liperty,  or  to  warn  you 
of  t'e  consequences," 

"  Don't  press  me  too  far,  Chainbearer,  don't  press  me  too 
far.  There 's  desp'rate  crittur's  in  this  clearin',  and  them 
that  isn't  to  be  driven  from  their  righteous  'arnin's  by  any 
that  carry  chains  or  p'int  compasses.  Go  your  way,  I  tell 
ye,  and  leave  us  to  gather  the  harvest  that  comes  of  the 
seed  of  our  own  sowin'  and  plantin'." 

"  Ye  Ml  gat'er  it,  ye  Ml  gat'er  it  all,  T'ousantacres— you 


276  THE    CHAINBEARER, 

and  yours.  Ye  Ve  sown  t'e  win't,  ant  ye  '11  reap  t'e  whirl- 
wints,  as  my  niece  Dus  Malpone  has  reat  to  me  often,  of 
late.  Ye  '11  gat'er  in  all  your  harvest,  tares  ant  all,  ye  will  j 
and  t'at  sooner  fan  ye  t'ink  for." 

"  I  wish  I  'd  never  seen  the  face  of  the  man  !  Go  away, 
I  tell  you,  Chainbearer,  and  leave  me  to  my  hard  'arnin's." 

"  Earnin's  !  Do  you  call  it  earnin's  to  chop  and  pillage 
on  anot'er's  lants,  and  to  cut  his  trees  into  logs,  and  to  saw 
his  logs  into  poarts,  and  sell  his  poarts  to  speculators,  and 
gif  no  account  of  your  profits  to  t'e  rightful  owner  of  it  all? 
Call  you  such  t'ievin'  righteous  earnin's?" 

"  Thief  back  ag'in,  old  measurer  !  Do  not  the  sweat  of 
the  brow,  long  and  hard  days  of  toil,  achin'  bones,  and 
hungry  bellies,  give  a  man  a  claim  to  the  fruit  of  his 
labours  ?" 

"  T'at  always  hast  peen  your  failin',  T'ousantacres ;  t'at 's 
t'e  very  p'int  on  which  you  've  proken  town,  man.  You 
pegin  wit'  your  morals,  at  t'e  startin'  place  t'at 's  most  con 
venient  to  yourself  and  your  plunterin'  crew,  insteat  of  goin* 
pack  to  t'e  laws  of  your  Lort  ant  Master.  Reat  what  t'e 
Almighty  Got  of  Heaven  ant  'art'  sait  unto  Moses,  ant  you  '11 
fint  t'at  you  've  not  turnet  over  leafs  enough  of  your  piple. 
You  may  chop  ant  you  may  hew,  you  may  haul  ant  you 
may  saw,  from  t'is  tay  to  t'e  ent  of  time,  and  you  '11  nefer 
pe  any  nearer  to  t'e  right  t'an  you  are  at  t'is  moment.  T'e 
man  t'at  starts  on  his  journey  wit'  his  face  in  t'e  wrong 
tirection,  olt  T'ousantacres,  wilt  nefer  reach  its  ent ;  t'ough 
he  trafel  'till  t'e  sweat  rolls  from  his  poty  like  water.  You 
pegin  wrong,  olt  man,  and  you  must  ent  wrong." 

I  saw  the  cloud  gathering  in  the  countenance  of  the 
squatter,  and  anticipated  the  outbreaking  of  the  tempest  that 
followed.  Two  fiery  tempers  had  met,  and,  divided  as  they 
were  in  opinions  and  practice,  by  the  vast  chasm  that  sepa 
rates  principles  from  expediency,  right  from  wrong,  honesty 
from  dishonesty,  and  a  generous  sacrifice  of  self  to  support 
the  integrity  of  a  noble  spirit,  from  a  homage  to  self  that 
confounded  and  overshadowed  all  sense  of  right,  it  was  not 
possible  that  they  should  separate  without  a  collision.  Un 
able  to  answer  Chainbearer's  reasoning,  the  squatter  resorted 
to  the  argument  of  force.  He  seized  my  old  friend  by  the 
throat  and  made  a  violent  effort  to  hurl  him  to  the  earth.  I 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  277 

must  do  this  man  of  violence  and  evil  the  justice  to  say, 
that  I  do  not  think  it  was  his  wish  at  that  moment  to  have 
assistance ;  but  the  instant  the  struggle  commenced  the 
conch  blew,  and  it  was  easy  to  predict  that  many  minutes 
would  not  elapse,  before  the  sons  of  Thousandacres  would 
be  pouring  in  to  the  rescue.  I  would  have  given  a  world  to 
be  able  to  throw  down  the  walls  of  my  prison,  and  rush 
to  the  aid  of  my  sterling  old  friend.  As  for  Susquesus, 
he  must  have  felt  a  lively  interest  in  what  was  going  on,  but 
he  remained  as  immoveable,  and  seemingly  as  unmoved  as 
a  rock. 

Andries  Coejemans,  old  as  he  was,  and  it  will  be  remem 
bered  he  too  had  seen  his  three-score  years  and  ten,  was 
not  a  man  to  be  taken  by  the  throat  with  impunity.  Thou 
sandacres  met  with  a  similar  assault,  and  a  struggle  fol 
lowed  that  was  surprisingly  fierce  and  well  contested,  con 
sidering  that  both  the  combatants  had  completed  the  ordinary 
limits  of  the  time  of  man.  The  squatter  gained  a  slight 
advantage  in  the  suddenness  and  vigour  of  his  assault,  but 
Chainbearer  was  still  a  man  of  formidable  physical  power. 
In  his  prime,  few  had  been  his  equals ;  and  Thousandacres 
soon  had  reason  to  know  that  he  had  met  more  than  his 
match.  For  a  single  instant  Chainbearer  gave  ground ; 
then  he  rallied,  made  a  desperate  effort,  and  his  adversary 
was  hurled  to  the  earth  with  a  violence  that  rendered  him, 
for  a  short  time,  insensible ;  old  Andries,  himself,  continuing 
erect  as  one  of  the  neighbouring  pines,  red  in  the  face, 
frowning,  and  more  severe  in  aspect  than  I  remembered 
ever  to  have  seen  him  before,  even  in  battle. 

Instead  of  pushing  his  advantage,  Chainbearer  did  not 
stir  a  foot  after  he  had  thrown  off  his  assailant.  There  he 
remained,  lofty  in  bearing,  proud  and  stern.  He  had  reason 
to  believe  no  one  was  a  witness  of  his  prowess,  but  I  could 
see  that  the  old  man  had  a  soldier's  feelings  at  his  victory. 
At  this  instant  I  first  let  him  know  my  close  proximity  by 
speaking. 

"  Fly — for  your  life  take  to  the  woods,  Chainbearer,"  I 

called  to  him,  through  the  chinks.    "  That  conch  will  bring 

all  the  tribe  of  the  squatters  upon  you  in  two  or  three  minutes ; 

the  young  men  are  close  at  hand,  in  the  stream  below  the 

24 


278  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

mill,  at  work  on  the  logs,  and  have  only  the  banks  to 
climb." 

"  Got  be  praiset !  Mortaunt,  my  tear  poy,  you  are  not 
mjuret,  t'en !  I  will  open  t'e  toor  of  your  prison,  and  we 
will  retreat  toget'er." 

My  remonstrances  were  vain.  Andries  came  round  to 
the  door  of  the  store-house,  and  made  an  effort  to  force  it 
open.  That  was  not  easy,  however ;  for,  opening  outwards, 
it  was  barred  with  iron,  and  secured  by  a  stout  lock.  Chain- 
bearer  would  not  listen  to  my  remonstrances,  but  he  looked 
around  him  for  some  instrument,  by  means  of  which  he 
could  either  break  the  lock  or  draw  the  staple.  As  the 
mill  was  at  no  great  distance,  away  he  went  in  that  direc 
tion,  in  quest  of  what  he  wanted,  leaving  me  in  despair  at 
his  persevering  friendship.  Remonstrance  was  useless,  how 
ever,  and  I  was  compelled  to  await  the  result  in  silence. 

Chainbearer  was  still  a  very  active  man.  Nature,  early 
training,  sobriety  of  life  in  the  main,  and  a  good  constitu 
tion,  had  done  this  much  for  him.  It  was  but  a  moment 
before  I  saw  him  in  the  mill,  looking  for  the  crow-bar. 
This  he  soon  found,  and  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  store 
house,  in  order  to  apply  this  powerful  lever,  when  Tobit 
came  in  sight,  followed  by  all  the  brethren,  rushing  up  the 
bank  like  a  pack  of  hounds  in  close  pursuit.  I  shouted  to  my 
friend  again  to  fly,  but  he  came  on  steadily  toward  my  pri 
son,  bent  on  the  single  -object  of  setting  me  free.  All  this 
time  Thousandacres  was  senseless,  his  head  having  fallen 
against  a  corner  of  the  building.  Chainbearer  was  so  intent 
on  his  purpose  that,  though  he  must  have  seen  the  crowd 
of  young  men,  no  less  than  six  in  number,  including  well- 
grown  lads,  that  was  swiftly  advancing  towards  him,  he  did 
not  bestow  the  least  attention  on  them.  He  was  actually 
busied  with  endeavouring  to  force  the  bar  in  between  the 
hasp  and  the  post,  when  his  arms  were  seized  behind,  and 
he  was  made  a  prisoner. 

Chainbearer  was  no  sooner  apprised  of  the  uselessness 
of  resistance,  than  he  ceased  to  make  any.  As  I  afterwards 
learned  from  himself,  he  had  determined  to  become  a  cap 
tive  with  me,  if  he  could  not  succeed  in  setting  me  free. 
Tobit  was  the  first  to  lay  hands  on  the  Chainbearer;  and 


THE    CHA1NBEARER.  279 

«o  rapidly  were  things  conducted,  for  it  happened  this  man 
had  the  key,  that  the  door  was  unbarred,  opened,  and  old 
Andries  was  thrust  into  the  cage,  almost  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye.  The  rapidity  of  the  movement  was  doubtless 
aided  by  the  acquiescent  feeling  that  happened  to  be  upper 
most  in  the  mind  of  Chainbearer,  at  that  precise  moment. 

No  sooner  was  this  new  prisoner  secured,  than  the  sons 
of  Thousandacres  raised  their  father's  body,  and  bore  it  to 
his  own  residence,  which  was  but  a  few  yards  distant.  Old 
and  young,  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  collected  in  that  build 
ing  ;  and  there  was  an  hour  during  which  we  appeared  to 
be  forgotten.  The  sentinel,  who  was  a  son  of  Tobit's,  de 
serted  his  post ;  and  even  Lowiny,  who  had  been  hovering 
in  sight  of  the  store-house  the  whole  morning,  seemed  to 
have  lost  her  interest  in  us.  I  was  too  much  engaged  with 
my  old  friend,  and  had  too  many  questions  to  ask  and  to 
answer,  however,  to  care  much  for  this  desertion ;  whioh 
moreover,  was  natural  enough  for  the  circumstances. 

"  I  rejoice  you  are  not  in  the  hands  of  that  pack  ot 
wolves,  my  good  friend !"  I  exclaimed,  after  the  first  saluta 
tions  had  passed  between  Andries  and  myself,  and  squeezing 
his  hand  again  and  again.  "  They  are  very  capable  of  any 
act  of  violence ;  and  I  feared  the  sight  of  their  father,  lying 
there  insensible,  might  have  inflamed  them  to  some  deed  of 
immediate  violence.  There  will  now  be  time  for  reflection, 
and,  fortunately,  I  am  a  witness  of  all  that  passed." 

"No  fear  for  olt  T'ousantacres, "  said  Chainbearer, 
heartily.  "  He  is  tough,  and  is  only  a  little  stunnet,  pecause 
he  t'ought  himself  a  petter  man  t'an  he  ist.  Half  an  hour 
will  pring  him  rount,  and  make  him  as  good  a  man  ast  he 
ever  wast.  But,  Mortaunt,  lat,  how  came  you  here,  and 
why  wast  you  wantering  apout  t'e  woods  at  night,  wit' 
Trackless,  here,  who  ist  a  sensiple  ret-skin,  and  ought  to 
haf  set  you  a  petter  example  ?" 

"  I  was  hot  and  feverish,  and  could  not  sleep ;  and  so  I 
took  a  stroll  in  the  forest,  and  got  lost.  Luckily,  Susquesus 
had  an  eye  on  me,  and  kept  himself  at  hand  the  whole 
time.  I  was  obliged  to  catch  a  nap  in  the  top  of  a  fallen 
tree,  and,  when  I  woke  in  the  morning,  the  Onondago  led 
me  here  in  quest  of  something  to  eat,  for  I  was  hungry  as 
a  famished  wolf." 


280  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  Tid  Susquesus,  t'en,  know  of  squatters  having  mate 
t'eir  pitch  on  t'is  property  ?"  asked  Andries,  in  some  sur 
prise,  and,  as  I  thought,  a  little  sternly. 

"  Not  he.  He  heard  the  saw  of  the  mill  in  the  stillness 
of  night,  and  we  followed  the  direction  of  that  sound,  and 
came  unexpectedly  out  on  this  settlement.  As  soon  as 
Thousandacres  ascertained  who  I  was,  he  shut  me  up  here ; 
and  as  for  Susquesus,  Jaap  has  doubtless  told  you  the  story 
he  was  commissioned  to  relate." 

"All  fery  true,  lat,  all  fery  true ;  I'ough  I  don't  half  un- 
derstant,  yet,  why  you  shoul't  haf  left  us  in  t'e  manner  you 
tit,  and  t'at,  too,  after  hafin'  a  long  talk  wit'  Dus.  T'e  gal 
is  heart-heafy,  Mortaunt,  as  'tis  plain  to  pe  seen ;  put  I 
can't  get  a  syllaple  from  her  t'at  hast  t'e  look  of  a  rational 
explanation.  I  shall  haf  to  ask  you  to  tell  t'e  story,  lat. 
I  was  tryin'  to  get  t'e  trut'  out  of  Dus,  half  of  t'e  way 
comin'  here ;  put  a  gal  is  as  close  as " 

"  Dus !"  I  interrupted  —  "  Half  the  way  coming  here  ? 
You  do  not,  cannot  mean  that  Dus  is  with  you." 

"  Hist,  hist — pe  careful.  You  speak  too  lout.  I  coult 
wish  not  to  let  t'ese  scountrels  of  squatters  know  t'at  t'e  gal 
is  so  exposet,  put  here  she  ist ;  or,  what  is  much  t'e  same, 
she  is  in  t'e  woots  out  yonter,  a  looker-on,  and  I  fear  must 
pe  in  con&arn  at  seein'  t'at  I,  too,  am  a  prisoner." 

"  Chainbearer,  how  could  you  thus  expose  your  niece — 
thus  bring  her  into  the  very  grasp  of  lawless  ruffians  ?" 

"  No,  Mortaunt,  no — t'ere  is  no  fear  of  her  peing  insultet, 
or  any  t'ing  of  t'at  sort.  One  can  reat  of  such  t'ings  in 
pooks,  put  woman  is  respectet  ant  not  insultet  in  America. 
Not  one  of  T'ousantacres  rascals  woult  wount  t'e  ear  of  t'e 
gal  wit'  an  improper  wort,  hat  he  a  chance,  which  not  one 
of  'em  hast,  seein'  nopody  knows  t'e  gal  is  wit'  me,  put  our 
selves.  Come  she  woult,  and  t'ere  wast  no  use  in  saying 
her  nay.  Dus  is  a  goot  creature,  Mortaunt,  and  a  tutiful 
gal ;  put  it 's  as  easy  to  turn  a  rifer  up  stream,  as  to  try  to 
holt  her  pack  when  she  loves." 

"Is  that  her  character?"  I  thought.  "Then  is  there 
little  chance,  indeed,  of  her  ever  becoming  mine,  since  her 
affections  must  have  gone  with  her  troth."  Nevertheless, 
my  interest  in  the  noble-hearted  girl  was  just  as  strong  as 
if  I  held  her  faith,  and  she  was  to  become  mine  in  a  few 


THE    CH  AINBEARER.  281 

weeks.  The  idea  that  she  was  at  that  moment  waiting  the 
return  of  her  uncle,  in  the  woods,  was  agony  to  me ;  but  I 
had  sufficient  self-command  to  question  the  Chain  bearer, 
until  I  got  out  of  him  all  of  the  following  facts : 

Jaap  had  carried  the  message  of  Susquesus,  with  great 
fidelity,  to  those  to  whom  the  Indian  had  sent  it.  On  hear 
ing  the  news,  and  the  manner  of  my  arrest,  Andries  called 
a  council,  consisting  of  himself,  Dus,  and  Frank  Malbone. 
This  occurred  in  the  afternoon  of  the  previous  day  ;  and  that 
same  night,  Malbone  proceeded  to  Ravensnest,  with  a  view 
of  obtaining  warrants  for  the  arrest  of  Thousandacres  and 
his  gang,  as  well  as  of  procuring  assistance  to  bring  them 
all  in,  in  expectation  of  having  the  whole  party  transferred 
to  the  gaol  at  Sandy  Hill.  As  the  warrant  could  be  granted 
only  by  Mr.  Newcome,  I  could  easily  see  that  the  messen 
ger  would  be  detained  a  considerable  time,  since  the  magis 
trate  would  require  a  large  portion  of  the  present  day  to 
enable  him  to  reach  his  house.  This  fact,  however,  I 
thought  it  well  enough  to  conceal  from  my  friend,  at  the 
moment. 

Early  that  morning,  Chainbearer,  Dus,  and  Jaap,  had  left 
the  huts,  taking  the  nearest  route  to  the  supposed  position 
of  the  clearing  of  Thousandacres,  as  it  had  been  described 
by  the  Indian.  Aided  by  a  compass,  as  well  as  by  their 
ong  familiarity  with  the  woods,  this  party  had  little  diffi 
culty  in  reaching  the  spot  where  the  Onondago  and  the 
negro  had  met ;  after  which,  the  remainder  of  the  journey 
was  through  a  |?rra  incognita,  as  respects  the  adventurers. 
With  some  search,  however,  a  glimpse  was  got  of  the  light 
of  the  clearing,  much  as  one  finds  an  island  in  the  ocean, 
when  the  skirts  of  the  wood  were  approached.  A  favour 
able  spot,  one  that  possessed  a  good  cover,  was  selected, 
whence  Chainbearer  reconnoitred  for  near  an  hour,  before  he 
left  it.  After  a  time  he  determined  on  the  course  he  adopted 
and  carried  out,  leaving  his  niece  to  watch  his  movements, 
with  instructions  to  rejoin  her  brother,  should  he  himself  be 
detained  by  the  squatter.  I  was  a  little  relieved  by  the 
knowledge  of  the  presence  of  Jaap,  for  I  knew  the  fidelity 
of  the  fellow  too  well  to  suppose  he  would  ever  desert  Dus ; 
but  my  prison  became  twice  as  irksome  to  me  after  I  had 
heard  this  account  of  Chainbearer's,  as  it  had  been  before. 
24* 


282  THE     CHAIN  BEARER 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

*  Was  she  not  all  my  fondest  wish  could  frame  ? 
Did  ever  mind  so  much  of  heaven  partake  ? 
Did  she  not  love  me  with  the  purest  flame  ? 
And  give  up  friends  and  fortune  for  my  sake  ? 
Though  mild  as  evening  skies, 
With  downcast,  streaming  eyes, 
Stood  the  stern  frown  of  supercilious  brows, 
Deaf  to  their  brutal  threats,  and  faithful  to  her  vows." 

SHAW 

Dus  was  then  near  me — in  sight  of  the  store-house,  per 
haps  !  But,  affection  for  her  uncle,  and  no  interest  in  me, 
had  brought  her  there.  I  could  respect  her  attachment  to 
her  old  guardian,  however,  and  admire  the  decision  and  spi 
rit  she  had  manifested  in  his  behalf,  at  the  very  moment  the 
consciousness  that  I  had  no  influence  on  her  movements  was 
the  most  profound. 

"  T'e  gal  woult  come,  Mortaunt,"  the  Chainbearer  conti 
nued,  after  having  gone  through  his  narrative ;  "  ant,  if  you 
know  Dus,  you  know  when  she  loves  she  wilt  not  be  deniet. 
Got  pless  me !  what  a  wife  she  woult  make  for  a  man  who 
wast  desarfin'  of  her !  Oh  !  here 's  a  pit  of  a  note  t'e  dear 
creature  has  written  to  one  of  T'ousantacre's  poys,  who  hast 
peen  out  among  us  often,  t'ough  I  never  so  much  as  dreamet 
t'at  t'e  squatting  olt  rascal  of  a  fat'er  was  on  our  lant,  here. 
Well,  Zepaniah,  as  t'e  lat  is  callet,  hast  passet  much  time  at 
t'e  Nest,  working  apout  in  t'e  fielts,  and  sometimes  for  us ; 
and,  to  own  the  trut'  to  you,  Mortaunt,  I  do  pelieve  t'e  young 
chap  hast  a  hankerin'  a'ter  Dus,  and  woult  pe  glat  enough 
to  get  t'e  gal  for  a  wife." 

"  He !  Zephaniah  Thousandacres — or  whatever  his  infer 
nal  name  may  be — he  a  hankering  or  an  attachment  for 
Ursula  Malbone — he  think  of  her  for  a  wife — he  presume 
to  love  such  a  perfect  being !'' 

Hoity,  toity,"  cried  old  Aridries,  looking  round  at  me  in 
surprise,  "  why  shouldn't  t'e  poy  haf  his  feelin's  ast  well  ast 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  283 

anot'er,  if  he  pe  a  squatter  ?  Squatters  haf  feelin's,  t'ough 
t'ey  haf  n't  much  honesty  to  poast  of.  Ant,  ast  for  honesty, 
you  see,  Mortaunt,  it  is  tifferent  petween  T'ousantacres  and 
his  poys.  T'e  lats  haf  peen  prought  up  to  fancy  t'ere  ist 
no  great  harm  in  lif'ing  on  anot'er  man's  lants,  wherast  t'is 
olt  rascal,  t'eir  fat'er,  wast  prought  up,  or  finks  he  wast 
prought  up,  in  t'e  very  sanctum  sanctorum  of  gotliness, 
among  t'e  puritans,  and  t'at  t'e  'art'  hast  not  t'eir  equals  in 
religion,  I  '11  warrant  you.  Ask  olt  Aaron  apout  his  soul, 
ant  he  '11  tell  you  t'at  it 's  a  petter  soul  t'an  a  Dutch  soul, 
and  t'at  it  won't  purn  at  all,  it's  so  free  from  eart'.  Yes, 
yes — t'at  ist  t'e  itee  wit'  'em  all  in  his  part  of  t'e  worlt. 
T'eir  gotliness  ist  so  pure  even  sin  wilt  do  it  no  great 
harm." 

I  knew  the  provincial  prejudices  of  Chainbearer  too  well 
to  permit  myself  to  fall  into  a  discussion  on  theology  with 
him,  just  at  that  moment ;  though,  I  must  do  the  old  man 
the  justice  to  allow  that  his  opinion  of  the  self-righteousness 
of  the  children  of  the  puritans  was  not  absolutely  without 
some  apology.  I  never  had  any  means  of  ascertaining  the 
fact,  but  it  would  have  occasioned  me  no  surprise  had  I  dis 
covered  that  Thousandacres,  and  all  his  brood,  looked  down 
on  us  New  Yorkers  as  an  especially  fallen  and  sinful  race, 
which  was  on  the  high  road  to  perdition,  though  encouraged 
and  invited  to  enter  on  a  different  road  by  the  spectacle  of  a 
chosen  people  so  near  them,  following  the  strait  and  nar 
row  path  that  leads  to  heaven.  This  mingling  of  God  and 
Mammon  is  by  no  means  an  uncommon  thing  among  us, 
though  the  squatters  would  probably  have  admitted  them 
selves  that  they  had  fallen  a  little  away,  and  were  by  no 
means  as  good  as  their  forefathers  had  once  been.  There 
is  nothing  that  sticks  so  close  to  an  individual,  or  to  a  com 
munity,  perhaps,  as  the  sense  of  its  own  worth.  As  "  com 
ing  events  throw  their  shadows  before,"  this  sentiment 
leaves  its  shadows  behind,  long  after  the  substance  which 
may  have  produced  them  has  moved  onward,  or  been  re 
solved  into  the  gases.  But  I  must  return  to  Zephaniah  and 
the  note. 

"  And  you  tell  me,  Chainbearer,  that  Ursula  has  actually 
written  a  note,  a  letter,  to  this  young  man  ?"  I  asked,  as 


284  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

soon  as  1  could  muster  resolution  enough  to  put  so  revolting 
a  question  ? 

*'  Sartain ;  here  it  ist,  ant  a  very  pretty  loohin'  letter  it 
is,  Mortaunt.  Dus  does  everyt'ing  so  hantily,  ant  so  like  a 
nice  young  woman,  t'at  it  ist  a  pleasure  to  carry  one  of  her 
letters.  Ay — t'ere  t'e  lat  ist  now,  and  I  '11  just  call  him, 
and  gif  him  his  own." 

Chainbearer  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  Zephaniah 
soon  stood  at  the  side  of  the  store-house. 

"  Well,  you  wilt  own,Zeph,"  continued  the  old  man,  "we 
didn't  cage  you  like  a  wilt  peast,  or  a  rogue  t'at  hast  peen 
mettlin'  wit'  what  tidn't  pelong  to  him,  when  you  wast  out 
among  us.  T'ere  ist  t'at  difference  in  t'e  treatment — put  no 
matter  !  Here  ist  a  letter  for  you,  and  much  goot  may  it 
do  you  !  It  comes  from  one  who  vilt  gif  goot  atvice ;  ant 
you  '11  be  none  t'e  worse  if  you  follow  it.  I  don't  know  a 
wort  t'at 's  in  it,  put  you  '11  fint  it  a  goot  letter,  I  '11  answer 
for  it.  Dus  writes  peautiful  letters,  and  in  a  hand  almost 
as  plain  and  hantsome  as  His  Excellency's,  t'ough  not  quite 
so  large.  Put  her  own  hant  isn't  as  large  as  His  Excel 
lency's,  t'ough  His  Excellency's  hant  wasn't  particularly 
pig  neit'er." 

I  could  scarce  believe  my  senses  !  Here  was  Ursula 
Malbone  confessedly  writing  a  letter  to  a  son  of  Thousand- 
acres  the  squatter,  and  that  son  admitted  to  be  her  admirer ! 
Devoured  by  jealousy,  and  a  thousand  feelings  to  which  I 
had  hitherto  been  a  stranger,  I  gazed  at  the  fortunate  being 
who  was  so  strangely  honoured  by  this  communication  from 
Dus,  with  the  bitterest  envy.  Although,  to  own  the  truth, 
the  young  squatter  was  a  well-grown,  good-looking  fellow, 
to  me  he  seemed  to  be  the  very  personification  of  coarseness 
and  vulgarity.  It  will  readily  be  supposed  that  Zephaniah 
was  not  entirely  free  from  some  very  just  imputations  of  the 
latter  character ;  but,  on  the  whole,  most  girls  of  his  own 
class  in  life  would  be  quite  content  with  him  in  these  re 
spects.  But  Ursula  Malbone  was  not  at  all  of  his  own  class 
in  life.  However  reduced  in  fortune,  she  was  a  lady,  by 
education  as  well  as  by  birth  ;  and  what  feelings  could  there 
possibly  be  in  common  between  her  and  her  strange  ad 
mirer  ?  I  had  heard  it  said  that  women  were  as  often  taken 


THE     CHAINJJEARER.  285 

by  externals  as  men ;  but  in  this  instance  the  externals  were 
coarse,  and  nothing  extraordinary.  Some  females,  too, 
could  not  exist  without  admiration ;  and  I  had  known  Dus 
but  a  few  weeks,  after  all,  and  it  was  possible  I  had  not  pene 
trated  the  secret  of  her  true  character.  Then  her  original 
education  had  been  in  the  forest ;  and  we  often  return  to 
our  first  loves,  in  these  particulars,  with  a  zest  and  devotion 
for  which  there  was  no  accounting.  It  was  possible  this 
strange  girl  might  have  portrayed  to  her  imagination,  in  the 
vista  of  the  future,  more  of  happiness  and  wild  enjoyment 
among  the  woods  and  ravines  of  stolen  clearings,  than  by 
dwelling  amid  the  haunts  of  men.  In  short,  there  was 
scarce  a  conceit  that  did  not  crowd  on  my  brain,  in  that 
moment  of  intense  jealousy  and  profound  unhappiness.  I 
was  as  miserable  as  a  dog. 

As  for  Zephaniah,  the  favoured  youth  of  Ursula  Malbone, 
he  received  his  letter,  as  I  fancied,  with  an  awkward  sur 
prise,  and  lounged  round  a  corner  of  the  building,  to  have 
the  pleasure,  as  it  might  be,  of  reading  it  to  himself.  This 
brought  him  nearer  to  my  position ;  for  I  had  withdrawn, 
in  a  disgust  I  could  not  conquer,  from  being  near  the  scene 
that  had  just  been  enacted. 

Opening  a  letter,  though  it  had  been  folded  by  the  deli 
cate  hands  of  Ursula  Malbone,  and  reading  it,  were  two  very 
different  operations,  as  Zephaniah  ^iow  discovered.  The 
education  of  the  young  man  was  very  limited,  and,  after  an 
effort  or  two,  he  found  it  impossible  to  get  on.  With  the 
letter  open  in  his  hand,  he  found  it  as  much  a  sealed  book 
to  him  as  ever.  Zephaniah  could  read  writing,  by  dint  of 
a  considerable  deal  of  spelling ;  but  it  must  not  be  a  good 
hand.  As  some  persons  cannot  comprehend  pure  English, 
so  he  found  far  more  difficulty  in  spelling  out  the  pretty, 
«ven  characters  before  him,  than  would  have  been  the  case 
had  he  been  set  at  work  on  the  pot-hooks  and  trammels  of 
one  of  his  own  sisters.  Glancing  his  eyes  around  in  quest 
of  aid,  they  happened  to  fall  on  mine,  which  were  watching 
his  movements  with  the  vigilance  of  a  feline  animal,  through 
the  chinks  of  the  logs,  and  at  the  distance  of  only  three  feet 
from  his  own  face.  As  for  the  Indian,  he,  seemingly,  took 
no  more  note  of  what  was  passing,  than  lovers  take  of  time 
in  a  stolen  interview ;  though  I  had  subsequently  reason  to 


286  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

believe  that  nothing  had  escaped  his  observation.  Andries 
was  in  a  distant  part  of  the  prison,  reconnoitring  the  clear 
ing  and  mills  with  an  interest  that  absorbed  all  his  attention 
for  the  moment.  Of  these  facts  Zephaniah  assured  himself 
by  taking  a  look  through  the  openings  of  the  logs ;  then, 
sidling  along  nearer  to  me,  he  said  in  a  low  voice — 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Major 
Littlepage,  York  larnin'  and  Varmount  larnin'  be  so  different, 
that  I  don't  find  it  quite  as  easy  to  read  this  letter  as  I  could 
wish." 

On  this  hint  I  seized  the  epistle,  and  began  to  read  it  in  a 
low  tone ;  for  Zephaniah  asked  this  much  of  me,  with  a 
delicacy  of  feeling  that,  in  so  far,  was  to  his  credit.  As 
the  reader  may  have  some  of  the  curiosity  I  felt  myself,  to 
know  what  Ursula  Malbone  could  possibly  have  to  say  in 
this  form  to  Zephaniah  Thousandacres,  I  shall  give  the  con 
tents  of  this  strange  epistle  in  full.  It  was  duly  directed  to 
"  Mr.  Zephaniah  Timberman,  Mooseridge,"  and  in  that 
respect  would  have  passed  for  any  common  communication. 
Within,  it  read  as  follows  : — 

"  SIR  : — 

"  As  you  have  often  professed  a  strong  regard  for  me,  I 
now  put  you  to  the  proqf  of  the  sincerity  of  your  protesta 
tions.  My  dear- uncle. goes  to  your  father,  whom  I  only 
know  by  report,  to  demand  the  release  of  Major  Littlepage, 
who,  we  hear,  is  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  your  family, 
against  all  law  and  right.  As  it  is  possible  the  business  of 
uncle  Chainbearer  will  be  disagreeable  to  Thousandacres, 
and  that  warm  words  may  pass  between  them,  I  ask  of  your 
friendship  some  efforts  to  keep  the  peace ;  and,  particularly, 
should  anything  happen  to  prevent  my  uncle  from  returning, 
that  you  would  come  to  me  in  the  woods — for  I  shall  ac 
company  the  chainbearer  to  the  edge  of  your  clearing— 
and  let  me  know  it.  You  will  find  me  there,  attended  by 
one  of  the  blacks,  and  we  can  easily  meet  if  you  cross  the 
fields  in  an  eastern  direction,  as  I  will  send  the  negro  to 
find  you  and  to  bring  you  to  me. 

"  In  addition  to  what  I  have  said  above,  Zephaniah,  let 
me  also  earnestly  ask  your  care  in  behalf  of  Major  Little- 
page.  Should  any  evil  befall  that  gentleman,  it  would  prove 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  287 

the  undoing  of  your  whole  family.  The  law  has  a  long 
arm,  and  it  will  reach  into  the  wilderness,  as  well  as  into  a 
settlement.  The  person  of  a  human  being  is  a  very  different 
thing  from  a  few  acres  of  timber,  and  General  Littlepage 
will  think  far  more  of  his  noble  son,  than  he  will  think  of 
all  the  logs  that  have  been  cut  and  floated  away.  Again 
and  again,  therefore,  I  earnestly  entreat  of  you  to  befriend 
this  gentleman,  not  only  as  you  hope  for  my  respect,  but  as 
you  hope  for  your  own  peace  of  mind.  I  have  had  some 
connection  with  the  circumstances  that  threw  Mr.  Littlepage 
into  your  hands,  and  shall  never  know  a  happy  moment 
again  should  anything  serious  befall  him.  Remember  this, 
Zephaniah,  and  let  it  influence  your  own  conduct.  I  owe  it 
to  myself  and  to  you  to  add,  that  the  answer  I  gave  you  at 
Ravensnest,  the  evening  of  the  raising,  must  remain  my 
answer,  now  and  for  ever ;  but,  if  you  have  really  the  regard 
for  me  that  you  then  professed,  you  will  do  all  you  can  to 
serve  Major  Littlepage,  who  is  an  old  friend  of  my  uncle's, 
and  whose  safety,  owing  to  circumstances  that  you  would 
fully  understand  were  they  told  to  you,  is  absolutely  neces 
sary  to  my  future  peace  of  mind. 

"  Your  friend, 

"  URSULA  MALBONE." 

What  a  strange  girl  was  this  Dus !  I  suppose  it  is  unne 
cessary  to  say  that  I  felt  profoundly  ashamed  of  my  late 
jealousy,  which  now  seemed  just  as  absurd  and  unreason 
able  as,  a  moment  before,  it  seemed  justified  and  plausible. 
God  protect  the  wretch  who  is  the  victim  of  that  evil-eyed 
passion  !  He  who  is  jealous  of  circumstances,  in  the  ordi 
nary  transactions  of  life,  usually  makes  a  fool  of  himself, 
by  seeing  a  thousand  facts  that  exist  in  his  own  brain  only  ; 
but  he  whose  jealousy  is  goaded  on  by  love,  must  be  some 
thing  more  than  human,  not  to  let  the  devils  get  a  firm  grasp 
of  his  soul.  I  can  give  no  better  illustration  of  the  weak- 
ness  that  this  last  passion  induces,  however,  than  the  ad 
mission  I  have  just  made,  that  I  believed  it  possible  Ursula 
Mai  bone  could  love  Zephaniah  Thousandacres,  or  whatever 
might  be  his  real  name.  I  have  since  pulled  at  my  own 
hair,  in  rage  at  my  own  folly,  as  that  moment  of  weakness 
has  recurred  to  my  mmd. 


288  THE     CIIAINBEAUER. 

"  She  writes  a  desp'rate  letter !"  exclaimed  the  young 
squatter,  stretching  his  large  frame,  like  one  who  had  lost 
command  of  his  movements  through  excitement.  "  I 
don't  b'lieve,  Major,  the  like  of  that  gal  is  to  be  found  in 
York,  taken  as  state  or  colony  !  I  've  a  dreadful  likin'  for 
her!" 

It  was  impossible  not  to  smile  at  this  outpouring  of  attach 
ment  ;  nor,  on  the  whole,  would  I  have  been  surprised  at 
the  ambition  it  inferred,  had  the  youth  been  but  a  very  little 
higher  in  the  social  scale.  Out  of  the  large  towns,  and 
with  here  and  there  an  exception  in  favour  of  an  isolated 
family,  there  is  not,  even  to  this  day,  much  distinction  in 
classes  among  our  eastern  brethren.  The  great  equality 
of  condition  and  education  that  prevails,  as  a  rule,  through 
out  all  the  rural  population  of  New  England,  while  it  has 
done  so  much  for  the  great  body  of  their  people,  has  had 
its  inevitable  consequences  in  lowering  the  standard  of  cul- 
tivation  among  the  few,  both  as  it  is  applied  to  acquirements, 
and  to  the  peculiar  notions  of  castes ;  and  nothing  is  more 
common  in  that  part  of  the  world,  than  to  hear  of  mar 
riages  that  elsewhere  would  have  been  thought  incongruous, 
for  the  simple  reason  of  the  difference  in  ordinary  habits 
and  sentiments  between  the  parties.  Thus  it  was,  that 
Zephaniah,  without  doing  as  much  violence  to  his  own,  as 
would  be  done  to  our  notions  of  the  fitness  of  things,  might 
aspire  to  the  hand  of  Ursula  Malbone;  unattended,  as  she 
certainly  was,  by  any  of  the  outward  and  more  vulgar 
signs  of  her  real  character.  I  could  not  but  feel  some 
respect  for  the  young  man's  taste,  therefore,  and  this  so 
much  the  more  readily,  because  I  no  longer  was  haunted 
by  the  very  silly  phantom  of  his  possible  success. 

"  Having  this  regard  for  Dus,"  I  said,  "  I  hope  I  may 
count  on  your  following  her  directions." 

"  What  way  can  I  sarve  you,  Major?  I  do  vow,  I  Ve 
every  wish  to  do  as  Ursula  asks  of  me,  if  I  only  know'd 
how." 

"  You  can  undo  the  fastenings  of  our  prison,  here,  and 
let  us  go  at  once  into  the  woods,  where  we  shall  be  safe 
enough  against  a  re-capture,  depend  on  it.  Do  us  that 
favour,  and  I  will  give  you  fifty  acres  of  land,  on  which 
you  can  settle  down,  and  become  an  honest  man.  Remem- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  289 

feer,  it  will  be  something  honourable  to  own  fifty  acres  of 
good  land,  in  fee." 

Zephaniah  pondered  on  my  tempting  offer,  and  I  could 
gee  that  he  wavered  in  opinion,  but  the  decision  was  adverse 
to  my  wishes.  He  shook  his  head,  looked  round  wistfully 
at  the  woods  where  he  supposed  Dus  then  to  be,  possibly 
watching  his  very  movements,  but  he  would  not  yield. 

"  If  a  father  can't  trust  his  own  son,  who  can  he  trust, 
in  natur'  ?"  demanded  the  young  squatter. 

"  No  one  should  be  aided  in  doing  wrong,  and  your  fa 
ther  has  no  just  right  to  shut  up  us  three,  in  this  building, 
as  he  has  done.  The  deed  is  against  the  law,  and  to  the 
law,  sooner  or  later,  will  he  be  made  to  give  an  account 
of  it." 

"  Oh !  as  for  the  law,  he  cares  little  for  that.  We  Jve 
been  ag'in  law  all  our  lives,  and  the  law  is  ag'in  us.  When 
a  body  comes  to  take  the  chance  of  jurors,  and  witnesses, 
and  lawyers,  and  poor  attorney-gin'rals,  and  careless  pro 
secutors,  law 's  no  great  matter  to  stand  out  ag'in,  in  this 
country.  I  s'pose  there  is  countries  in  which  law  counts 
for  suthin' ;  but,  hereabouts,  and  all  through  Varmount,  we 
don't  kear  much  for  the  law,  unless  it 's  a  matter  between 
man  and  man,  and  t'other  side  holds  out  for  his  rights,  bull 
dog  fashion.  Then,  I  allow,  it 's  suthin'  to  have  the  law  on 
your  side ;  but  it's  no  great  matter  in  a  trespass  case." 

"  This  may  not  end  in  a  trespass  case,  however.  Your 
father — by  the  way,  is  Thousandacres  much  hurt  ?" 

"  Not  much  to  speak  on,"  coolly  answered  the  son,  still 
gazing  in  the  direction  of  the  woods.  "  A  little  stunned, 
but  he 's  gettin'  over  it  fast,  and  he  's  used  to  sich  rubs. 
Father 's  desperate  solid  about  the  head,  and  can  stand  as 
much  sledgehammering  there,  as  any  man  I  ever  seed. 
Tobit  's  tough,  too,  in  that  part ;  and  he 's  need  of  it,  for 
he 's  for  ever  getting  licks  around  the  forehead  and  eyes." 

"And,  as  your  father  comes  to,  what  seems  to  be  his  dispo 
sition  towards  us  ?" 

"  Nothin'  to  speak  on,  in  the  way  of  friendship,  I  can  tell 
you  !     The  old  man 's  considerable  riled  ;  and  when  that  '3 
he  case,  he  '11  have  his  own  way  for  all  the  governors  and 
;udges  in  the  land !" 
25 


290  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  meditates  any  serious  harm  to  ua 
prisoners  T' 

*'A  man  doosn't  meditate  a  great  deal,  I  guess,  with  such 
a  rap  on  the  skull.  He  feels  a  plaguy  sight  more  than  he 
thinks  ;  and  when  the  feelin's  is  up,  it  doosn't  matter  much 
who  's  right  and  who  's  wrong.  The  great  difficulty  in  your 
matter  is  how  to  settle  about  the  lumber  that 's  in  the  creek. 
The  water 's  low ;  and  the  most  that  can  be  done  with  it, 
afore  November,  will  be  to  float  it  down  to  the  next  rift,  over 
which  it  can  never  go,  with  any  safety,  without  more  water. 
It 's  risky  to  keep  one  like  you,  and  to  keep  Chainbearer, 
too,  three  or  four  months,  in  jail  like  ;  and  it  wunt  do  to  let 
you  go  neither,  sin'  you  M  soon  have  the  law  a'ter  us.  If 
we  keep  you,  too,  there  '11  be  a  s'arch  made,  and  a  reward 
offered.  Now  a  good  many  of  your  tenants  know  of  this 
clearin',  and  human  natur'  can't  hold  out  ag'in  a  reward, 
The  old  man  knows  that  well ;  and  it 's  what  he  most  afeard 
on.  We  can  stand  up  ag'in  almost  anything  better's  than 
ag'in  a  good,  smart  reward." 

I  was  amused  as  well  as  edified  with  Zephaniah's  simpli 
city  and  frankness,  and  would  willingly  have  pursued  the 
discourse,  had  not  Lowiny  come  tripping  towards  us,  sum 
moning  her  brother  away  to  attend  a  meeting  of  the  family  ; 
the  old  squatter  having  so  far  recovered  as  to  call  a  council 
of  his  sons..  The  brother  left  me  on  the  instant,  but  the 
girl  lingered  at  my  corner  of  the  store-house,  like  one  who 
was  reluctant  to  depart. 

"  I  hope  the  hasty-puddin'  was  sweet  and  good,"  said 
Lowiny,  casting  a  timid  glance  in  at  the  chink. 

"  It  was  excellent,  my  good  girl,  and  I  thank  you  for  it 
with  all  my  heart.  Are  you  very  busy  now  ? — can  you 
remain  a  moment  while  I  make  a  request  ?" 

"  Oh  !  there 's  nothin'  for  me  to  do  just  now  in  the  house, 
seein'  that  father  has  called  the  b'ys  around  him.  When 
ever  he  doos  that,  even  mother  is  apt  to  quit." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,  as  I  think  you  are  so  kind-hearted  and 
good,  that  I  may  trust  you  in  a  matter  of  some  importance; 
may  I  not,  my  good  Lowiny  ?" 

.     "  Squatters'  da'ghters  may  be  good,  then,  a'ter  all,  in  the 
eyes  of  grand  landholders  !" 

"  Certainly — excellent  even ;  and  I  am  much  disposed  to 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  291 

believe  that  you  are  one  of  that  class."  Lowiny  looked 
delighted;  and  I  felt  less  reluctance  at  administering  this 
flattery  than  might  otherwise  have  been  the  case,  from  the 
circumstance  that  so  much  of  what  I  said  was  really  merited. 

"  Indeed,  I  know  you  are,  and  quite  unfitted  for  this  sort 
of  life.  But  I  must  tell  you  my  wishes  at  once,  for  our  time 
may  be  very  short." 

"  Do,"  said  the  girl,  looking  up  anxiously,  a  slight  blush 
suffusing  her  face ;  the  truth-telling  sign  of  ingenuous  feel 
ings,  and  the  gage  of  virtue ;  "  do,  for  I  'm  dying  to  hear 
it ;  as  I  know  beforehand  I  shall  do  just  what  you  ask  me 
to  do.  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but  when  father  or  mother 
ask  me  to  do  a  thing,  I  sometimes  feel  as  if  I  couldn't ;  but 
I  don't  feel  so  now,  at  all." 

"  My  requests  do  not  come  often  enough  to  tire  you. 
Promise  me,  in  the  first  place,  to  keep  my  secret." 

"  That  I  will !"  answered  Lowiny,  promptly,  and  with 
emphasis.  "  Not  a  mortal  soul  shall  know  anything  on  't, 
and  I  won't  so  much  as  talk  of  it  in  my  sleep,  as  I  some 
times  do,  if  I  can  any  way  help  it." 

"  Chainbearer  has  a  niece,  who  is  very  dear  to  him,  and 
who  returns  all  his  affection.  Her  name  is — " 

"  Dus  Malbone,"  interrupted  the  girl,  with  a  faint  laugh. 
"  Zeph  has  told  me  all  about  her,  for  Zeph  and  I  be  great 
fri'nds — he  tells  me  everything,  and  /  tell  him  everything. 
It's  sich  a  comfort,  you  can't  think,  to  have  somebody  to 
tell  secrets  to  ; — well,  what  of  Dus?" 

"  She  is  here." 

"  Here !  I  don't  see  anything  on  her"  —  looking  round 
hurriedly,  and,  as  I  fancied,  in  a  little  alarm  —  "Zeph  says 
she 's  dreadful  han'some  !" 

"  She  is  thought  so,  I  believe ;  though,  in  that  respect, 
she  is  far  from  being  alone.  There  is  no  want  of  pretty 
girls  in  America.  By  saying  she  is  here,  I  did  not  mean 
here,  in  the  store-house,  but  here,  in  the  woods.  She  ac 
companied  her  uncle  as  far  as  the  edge  of  the  clearing  — 
look  round,  more  towards  the  east.  Do  you  see  the  black 
stub,  in  the  corn-field,  behind  your  father's  dwelling?" 

"  Sartain  —  that 's  plain  enough  to  be  seen  —  I  wish  I 
could  see  Albany  as  plain." 

«  Now,  look  a  little  to  the  left  of  that  stub,  and  you  will 


292  THE     CJIAINBEARER. 

see  a  large  chestnut,  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  behind  it  — 
the  chestnut  I  mean  thrusts  its  top  out  of  the  forest,  into  the 
clearing,  as  it  might  be." 

"  Well,  I  see  the  chestnut  too,  and  I  know  it  well.  There 's 
a  spring  of  water  cluss  to  its  roots." 

"  At  the  foot  of  that  chestnut  Chainbearer  left  his  niece, 
and  doubtless  she  is  somewhere  near  it  now.  Could  you 
venture  to  stroll  as  far,  without  going  directly  to  the  spot, 
and  deliver  a  message,  or  a  letter?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  could !  Why,  we  gals  stroll  about  the 
lots  as  much  as  we  please,  and  it 's  berryin'  time  now.  I  '11 
run  and  get  a  basket,  and  you  can  write  your  letter  while 
I  'm  gone.  La  !  Nobody  will  think  anything  of  my  goin'  a 
berryin' — I  have  a  desp'rate  wish  to  see  this  Dus  !  Do  you 
think  she  '11  have  Zeph?" 

"  Young  women's  minds  are  so  uncertain,  that  I  should 
not  like  to  venture  an  opinion.  If  it  were  one  of  my  own 
sex,  now,  and  he  had  declared  his  wishes,  I  think  I  could 
tell  you  with  some  accuracy." 

The  girl  laughed  ;  then  she  seemed  a  little  bewildered, 
and  again  she  coloured.  How  the  acquired  —  nay  native 
feeling  of  the  sex,  will  rise  up  in  tell-tale  ingenuousness  to 
betray  a  woman ! 

"  Well,"  she  cried,  as  she  ran  away  in  quest  of  the  basket, 
"  to  my  notion  a  gal's  mind  is  as  true  and  as  much  to  be 
depended  on  as  that  of  any  mortal  crittur'  living !" 

It  was  now  my  business  to  write  a  note  to  Dus.  The 
materials  for  writing  my  pocket-book  furnished.  I  tore  out 
a  leaf,  and  approached  Chainbearer,  telling  him  what  I  was 
about  to  do,  and  desiring  to  know  if  he  had  any  particular 
message  to  send. 

"  Gif  t'e  tear  gal  my  plessin',  Mortaunt.  Tell  her  olt 
Chainpearer  prays  Got  to  pless  her — t'at  ist  all.  I  leaf  you 
to  say  t'e  rest." 

I  did  say  the  rest.  In  the  first  place  I  sent  the  blessing 
of  the  uncle  to  the  niece.  Then,  I  explained  in  as  few  words 
as  possible,  our  situation,  giving  it  as  promising  an  aspect 
as  my  conscience  would  permit.  These  explanations  made, 
I  entreated  Ursula  to  return  to  her  brother,  and  not  again 
expose  herself  so  far  from  his  protection.  Of  the  close  of 
this  note,  I  shall  not  say  much.  It  wai  brief,  but  it  let  Dus 


THE    CHAINBEAREIl.  293 

understand  that  my  feelings  towards  her  were  as  lively  as 
ever ;  and  I  believe  it  was  expressed  with  the  power  that 
passion  lends.  My  note  was  ended  just  as  Lowiny  appeared 
to  receive  it.  She  brought  us  a  pitcher  of  milk,  as  a  sort 
of  excuse  for  returning  to  the  store- house,  received  the  note 
in  exchange,  and  hurried  away  towards  the  fields.  As  she 
passed  one  of  the  cabins,  I  heard  her  calling  out  to  a  sistei 
that  she  was  going  for  blackberries  to  give  the  prisoners. 

I  watched  the  movements  of  that  active  girl  with  intense 
interest.  Chainbearer,  who  had  slept  little  since  my  disap 
pearance,  was  making  up  for  lost  time ;  and,  as  for  the  In 
dian,  eating  and  sleeping  are  very  customary  occupations 
of  his  race,  when  not  engaged  in  some  hunt,  -or  on  the  war 
path,  or  as  a  runner. 

Lowiny  proceeded  towards  a  lot  of  which  the  bushes  had 
taken  full  possession.  Here  she  soon  disappeared,  picking 
berries  as  she  proceeded,  with  nimble  fingers,  as  if  she  felt 
the  necessity  of  having  some  of  the  fruit  to  show  on  her  re 
turn.  I  kept  my  eye  fastened  on  the  openings  of  the  forest, 
near  the  chestnut,  as  soon  as  the  girl  was  concealed  in  the 
bushes,  anxiously  waiting  for  the  moment  when  I  might  see 
her  form  re-appearing  at  that  spot.  My  attention  was  re 
newed  by  getting  a  glimpse  of  Dus.  It  was  but  a  glimpse, 
the  fluttering  of  a  female  dress  gliding  among  the  trees  ;  but, 
as  it  was  too  soon  for  the  arrival  of  Lowiny,  I  knew  it  must 
be  Dus.  This  was  cheering,  as  it  left  little  reason  to  doubt 
that  my  messenger  would  find  the  object  of  her  visit.  In 
the  course  of  half  an  hour  after  Lowiny  entered  the  bushes 
I  saw  her,  distinctly,  near  the  foot  of  the  chestnut.  Pausing 
a  moment,  as  if  to  reconnoitre,  the  girl  suddenly  moved  into 
the  forest,  when  I  made  no  doubt  she  and  Dus  had  a  meet 
ing.  An  entire  hour  passed,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  Lowiny. 

In  the  meanwhile  Zephaniah  made  his  appearance  again 
at  the  side  of  the  store-house.  This  time  he  came  accom 
panied  by  two  of  his  brethren,  holding  the  key  in  his  hand. 
At  first  I  supposed  the  intention  was  to  arraign  me  before 
the  high  court  of  Thousandacres,  but  in  this  I  was  in  error. 
No  sooner  did  the  young  men  reach  the  door  of  our  prison 
than  Zephaniah  called  out  to  the  Onondago  to  approach  it, 
as  he  had  something  to  say  to  him. 

It  must  be  dull  work  to  a  red-skin  to  be  shut  up  likfl  * 
25* 


294  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

hog  afore  it 's  wrung,"  said  the  youth,  drawing  his  images 
from  familiar  objects  ;  "  and  I  s'pose  you  'd  be  right  glad  to 
come  out  here  and  walk  about,  something  like  a  free  and 
rational  crittur'.  What  do  you  say,  Injin — is  sich  your 
desire?" 

««  Sartain,"  quietly  answered  Sureflint.  "  Great  deal  rad- 
der  be  out  dan  be  in  here." 

"  So  I  nat'rally  s'posed.  Well,  the  old  man  says  you 
can  come  out  on  promises,  if  you  're  disposed  to  make  'em. 
So  you  're  master  of  your  own  movements,  you  see." 

"  What  he  want  me  do  ?     What  he  want  me  say,  eh  1" 

"  No  great  matter,  a'ter  all,  if  a  body  has  only  a  mind  to 
try  to  do  it.  In  the  first  place,  you  're  to  give  your  parole 
not  to  go  off;  but  to  stay  about  the  clearin',  and  to  come  in 
and  give  yourself  up  when  the  conch  blows  three  short 
blasts.  Will  you  agree  to  that,  Sus  ?" 

"  Sartain — no  go  'way ;  come  back  when  he  call — dat 
mean  stay  where  he  can  hear  conch." 

"  Well,  that 's  agreed  on,  and  it 's  a  bargain.  Next, 
you  're  to  agree  not  to  go  pryin'  round  the  mill  and  barn, 
to  see  what  you  can  find,  but  keep  away  from  all  the  build- 
in's  but  the  store-'us'  and  the  dwellings,  and  not  to  quit  the 
clearin'.  Do  you  agree  ?" 

"  Good  ;  no  hard  to  do  dat." 

"  Well,  you  're  to  bring  no  weepons  into  the  settlement, 
and  to  pass  nothing  but  words  and  food  into  the  other  pri 
soners.  Will  you  stand  to  that  ?" 

"  Sartain ;  willin'  'nough  to  do  dat,  too." 

"  Then  you  're  in  no  manner  or  way  to  make  war  on  any 
on  us  'till  your  parole  is  up,  and  you  're  your  own  man 
ag'in.  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Trackless  ?" 

««  All  good ;  'gree  to  do  him  all." 

"  Wa-a-1,  that 's  pretty  much  all  the  old  man  stands  out 
for  ;  but  mother  has  a  condition  or  two  that  she  insists  on  Jt 
I  shall  ask.  Should  the  worst  come  to  the  worst,  and  the 
folks  of  this  settlement  get  to  blows  with  the  folks  out  of  it, 
you  're  to  bargain  to  take  no  scalps  of  women  or  children, 
and  none  from  any  man  that  you  don't  overcome  in  open 
battle.  The  old  woman  will  grant  you  the  scalps  of  men 
killed  in  battle,  but  thinks  it  ag'in  reason  to  take  'em  from 
sich  as  be  not  so  overcome." 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  2i)5 

"  Good ;  don't  want  to  take  scalp  at  all,"  answered  the 
Indian,  with  an  emotion  he  could  not  altogether  suppress. 
"  Got  no  tribe — got  no  young  men;  what  good  scalp  do? 
Nobody  care  how  many  scalp  Susquesus  take  away — how 
many  he  leave  behind.  All  dat  forgot  long  time  " 

"  Wa-a-1,  that 's  your  affair,  not  mine.  But,  as  all  the 
articles  is  agreed  to,  you  can  come  out,  and  go  about  your 
business.  Mind,  three  short,  sharp  blasts  on  the  conch  is 
the  signal  to  come  in  and  give  yourself  up." 

On  this  singular  cartel  Susquesus  was  set  at  liberty.  I 
.heard  the  whole  arrangement  with  astonishment ;  though, 
by  the  manner  of  the  high  contracting  parties,  it  was  easy 
to  see  there  was  nothing  novel  in  the  arrangement,  so  far 
as  they  were  concerned.  I  had  heard  that  the  faith  of  an 
Indian  of  any  character,  in  all  such  cases,  was  considered 
sacred,  and  could  not  but  ask  myself,  as  Susquesus  walked 
quietly  out  of  prison,  how  many  potentates  and  powers  there 
were  in  Christendom  who,  under  circumstances  similarly 
involving  their  most  important  interests,  could  be  found  to 
place  a  similar  confidence  in  their  fellows !  Curious  to 
know  how  my  present  masters  felt  on  this  subject,  the  oppor 
tunity  was  improved  to  question  them. 

"  You  give  the  Indian  his  liberty  on  parole,"  I  said  to 
Zephaniah — "  will  you  refuse  the  same  privilege  to  us  white 
men  ?" 

"  An  Injin  is  an  Injin.  He  has  his  natur',  and  we  've 
our  'n.  Suthin'  was  said  about  lettin'  you  out,  too,  major ; 
but  the  old  man  wouldn't  hear  to  it.  '  He  know'd  man 
kind,'  he  said,  'and  he  know'd  'twould  never  do.'  If  you 
let  a  white  man  loose,  he  sets  his  wits  at  work  to  find  a  hole 
to  creep  out  on  the  bargain — goin'  back  to  the  creation  of 
the  'arth  but  he  '11  find  one.  The  major  will  say  I  was  put 
in  ag'in' law,  and  now  I 'm  out,  I'll  stay  out  ag'in'  pro 
mises,  or  some  sich  reasonin',  and  now  we  have  him  safe, 
'twill  be  best  to  keep  him  safe!  That's  the  substance  of 
the  old  man's  idees,  and  you  can  see,  major,  just  as  well  as 
any  on  us,  how  likely  he  '11  be  to  change  'em." 

There  was  no  contending  with  this  logic,  which  in  secret 
I  well  knew  to  be  founded  in  fact,  and  I  made  no  further 
application  for  my  own  release.  It  appeared,  however,  that 
Thousandacres  himself  was  half-disposed  to  make  a  conces- 


296  THE    CHAINBEAEEE 

sion  in  favour  of  Chainbearer,  similar  to  that  he  had  granted 
to  the  Indian.  This  struck  me  as  singular,  after  the  rude 
collision  that  had  already  occurred  between  the  two  men — 
but  there  are  points  of  honour  that  are  peculiar  to  each  con 
dition  of  life,  and  which  the  men  of  each  feel  a  pride  not 
only  in  causing  to  be  respected,  but  in  respecting  them 
selves. 

"  Father  had  some  thoughts  of  taking  your  parole,  too, 
Chainbearer "  added  Zephaniah,  "  and  he  concluded  he 
would,  hadn't  it  been  that  you've  been  living  out  in  the  set 
tlements  so  much  of  late  years,  that  he's  not  quite  easy  in. 
trusting  you.  A  man  that  passes  so  much  of  his  time  in 
running  boundaries,  may  think  himself  privileged  to  step 
over  them." 

"  Your  fat'er  ist  welcome  to  his  opinion, "  answered  An- 
dries  coolly.  "  He'll  get  no  parole  of  me,  nor  do  I  want  any 
favours  of  him.  We  are  at  sword's  p'ints,  young  man,  and 
let  him  look  out  for  himself  and  his  lumper  as  pest  he 
can." 

"  Nay, "  answered  Zephaniah,  stretching  himself,  and 
answering  with  spirit,  though  he  well  knew  he  was  speak 
ing  to  the  uncle  of  Dus,  and  thereby  endangering  his  inte 
rests  with  his  mistress — "  nay,  Chainbearer,  if  it  comes  to 
that,  "twill  be  "  hardes  fend  off."  We  are  a  strong  party 
of  stout  men,  and  arn't  to  be  frightened  by  the  crier  of  a 
court,  or  to  be  druv'  off  the  land  by  sheep-skin.  Cata 
mounts  must  come  ag'in  us  in  droves,  afore  we'll  give  an 
inch." 

"  Go  away,  go  away — foolish  young  fellow — you're  your 
fat'er's  son,  and  t'at  's  as  much  as  neet  pe  said  of  you.  I 
want  no  favours  from  squatters,  which  ist  a  preed  I  tetest 
and  tespise. " 

I  was  a  little  surprised  at  hearing  this  answer,  and  at 
witnessing  this  manifestation  of  feeling  in  Chainbearer,  who, 
ordinarily,  was  a  cool,  and  uniformly  a  courteous  man.  Oa 
reflection,  however,  I  saw  he  was  not  so  wrong.  An  ex 
change  of  anything  like  civilities  betwen  us  and  our  cap 
tors,  might  seem  to  give  them  some  claim  on  us  ;  whereas, 
by  standing  on  the  naked  right,  we  had  every  advantage  of 
them,  in  a  moral  sense,  at  least.  Zephaniah  and  his  breth 
ren  left  us,  on  receiving  this  repulse  of  Andries ;  but  Susque- 


THB     CHAINBEARER.  297 

BUS  kept  loitering  around  the  store-house,  apparently  little 
better  off,  now  he  was  on  its  outside,  than  he  had  been  when 
in  it.  He  had  nothing  to  do,  and  his  idleness  was  that  of 
an  Indian — one  of  a  race  of  such  terrible  energies,  when 
energy  is  required,  and  so  frequently  listless,  when  not 
pressed  upon  by  necessity,  pleasure,  war,  or  interest. 

Things  were  in  this  state,  when,  some  time  after  the  in 
terview  just  related,  we  had  another  visit  from  a  party 
headed  by  Tobit.  This  man  came  to  escort  Chainbearer 
and  myself  to  the  cabin  of  Thousandacres,  where  all  the 
men  of  the  family  were  assembled ;  and  where,  as  it  now 
appeared,  we  were  to  have  something  like  a  hearing,  that 
might  seriously  affect  our  fates,  for  good  or  for  evil.  I 
consulted  Chainbearer  on  the  propriety  of  our  lending  our 
selves  to  such  a  measure  ;  but  I  found  Andries  disposed  to 
meet  the  brood  of  squatters,  face  to  face,  and  to  tell  them 
his  mind,  let  it  be  when  and  where  it  might.  Finding  my 
friend  in  this  temper,  I  made  no  farther  objections  myself, 
but  left  the  storehouse  in  his  company,  well  guarded  by  four 
of  the  young  men,  all  of  whom  were  armed,  holding  our 
way  to  the  seat  of  justice,  in  that  wild  and  patriarchal 
government. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"  When  Adam  delv'd,  and  Eve  span, 
Where  was  then  the  gentleman  ?" 

Old  Saw. 

THOUSANDACRES  had  not  altogether  neglected  forms, 
though  so  much  set  against  the  spirit  of  the  law.  We  found 
a  sort  of  court  collected  before  the  door  of  his  dwelling, 
with  himself  in  the  centre,  while  the  principal  room  con 
tained  no  one  but  Prudence  and  one  or  two  of  her  daughters. 
Among  the  latter  was  Lowiny,  to  my  surprise;  for  I  had  not 
seen  the  girl  return  from  the  woods,  though  my  eyes  had 
not  been  long  turned  from  the  direction  in  which  I  had  hopes 
of  catching  a  glimpse  of  Dus. 


298  THE     CHAINBEAREK. 

Tobit  led  us  prisoners  into  the  house,  placing  us  near  the 
door,  and  facing  his  father ;  an  arrangement  that  superseded 
the  necessity  of  much  watchfulness,  as  our  only  means  of 
escape  would  necessarily  be  by  rushing  through  the  throng 
without — a  thing  virtually  impracticable.  But  Chainbearer 
appeared  to  have  no  thought  of  flight.  He  entered  that 
circle  of  athletic  young  men  with  perfect  indifference ;  and 
I  remember  that  it  struck  me  his  air  resembled  that  which 
I  had  often  seen  him  assume  when  our  regiment  was  on  the 
eve  of  serious  service.  At  such  moments  old  Andries  could, 
and  often  did,  appear  grand — dignity,  authority  and  coolness 
being  blended  with  sterling  courage. 

When  in  the  room,  Chainbearer  and  I  seated  ourselves 
near  the  door,  while  Thousandacres  had  a  chair  on  the  turf 
without,  surrounded  by  his  sons,  all  of  whom  were  standing. 
As  this  arrangement  was  made  amid  a  grave  silence,  the 
effect  was  not  altogether  without  impressiveness,  and  partook 
of  some  of  the  ordinary  aspects  of  justice.  I  was  struck 
with  the  anxious  curiosity  betrayed  in  the  countenances  of 
the  females  in  particular ;  for  the  decision  to  which  Thou 
sandacres  was  about  to  come,  would  with  them  have  the 
authority  of  a  judgment  of  Solomon.  Accustomed  to  reason 
altogether  in  their  own  interests,  I  make  no  doubt  that,  in 
the  main,  all  of  that  semi-barbarous  breed  fancied  them 
selves  invested,  in  their  lawless  occupation,  by  some  sort  of 
secret  natural  right ;  ignorant  of  the  fact  that,  the  moment 
they  reduced  their  claim  to  this  standard,  they  put  it  on  the 
level  with  that  of  all  the  rest  of  mankind.  Nature  gives 
nothing  exclusively  to  an  individual,  beyond  his  individu 
ality,  and  that  which  appertains  to  his  person  and  personal 
qualities ;  all  beyond,  he  is  compelled  to  share,  under  the 
law  of  nature,  with  the  rest  of  his  race.  A  title  dependent 
on  original  possession  forms  no  exception  to  this  rule ;  for 
it  is  merely  human  convention  that  gives  it  force  and  au 
thority,  without  which  it  would  form  no  title  at  all.  But 
into  mysteries  like  these,  none  of  the  family  of  Thousandacres 
ever  entered ;  though  the  still,  small  voice  of  conscience, 
the  glimmerings  of  right,  were  to  be  traced  occasionally, 
even  amid  the  confused  jumble  of  social  maxims  in  which 
their  selfishness  had  taken  refuge. 

We  live  in  an  age  of  what  is  called  progress,  and  fancy 


THE    GHAINBEARER.  299 

that  man  is  steadily  advancing  on  the  great  path  of  his 
destiny,  to  something  that  we  are  apt  to  imagine  is  to  form 
perfection.  Certainly  I  shall  not  presume  to  say  what  is, 
or  what  is  not,  the  divine  intention  as  to  the  future  destina 
tion  of  our  species  on  earth ;  but  years  and  experience  must 
have  taught  me,  or  I  should  have  lived  in  vain,  how  little 
there  is  among  our  boasted  improvements  that  is  really  new  ; 
and  if  we  do  possess  anything  in  the  way  of  principles  that 
bear  on  them  the  impress  of  inviolability,  they  are  those 
that  have  become  the  most  venerable,  by  having  stood  the 
severest  tests  of  time. 

I  know  not  whether  the  long,  silent  pause  that  succeeded 
our  arrival,  was  the  result  of  an  intention  to  heighten  the 
effect  of  that  strange  scene,  or  whether  Thousandacres 
really  wished  time  to  collect  his  thoughts,  and  to  mature  his 
plans.  One  thing  struck  me ;  notwithstanding  the  violence 
that  had  so  recently  occurred  between  Chainbearer  and 
himself,  there  were  no  traces  of  resentment  in  the  hardened 
and  wrinkled  countenance  of  that  old  tenant  of  the  forest ; 
for  he  was  too  much  accustomed  to  those  sudden  outbreak- 
ings  of  anger,  to  suffer  them  long  to  linger  in  his  recollec 
tion.  In  all  that  was  said,  and  in  all  that  passed,  in  the 
iourse  of  that  (to  me)  memorable  day,  I  could  trace  no 
manifestation  of  any  feeling  in  the  squatter,  in  consequence 
of  the  rude  personal  rencontre  that  he  had  so  lately  had 
with  my  friend.  They  had  clenched,  and  he  had  been 
overthrown ;  and  that  ended  the  matter. 

The  silence  which  occurred  after  we  took  our  seats  must 
have  lasted  several  minutes.  For  myself,  I  saw  I  was  only 
a  secondary  person  in  this  interview ;  old  Andries  having 
completely  supplanted  me  in  importance,  not  only  in  acts, 
but  in  the  estimation  of  the  squatters.  To  him  they  were 
accustomed,  and  accustomed,  moreover,  to  regard  as  a  sort 
of  hostile  power  ;  his  very  pursuit  being  opposed  to  the  great 
moving  principle  of  their  every-day  lives.  The  man  who 
measured  land,  and  he  who  took  it  to  himself  without  mea 
surement,  were  exactly  antagonist  forces,  in  morals  as  well 
as  in  physics ;  and  might  be  supposed  not  to  regard  each 
other  with  the  most  friendly  eyes.  Thus  it  was  that  the 
Chainbearcr  actually  became  an  object  of  greater  interest  to 
these  squatters,  than  the  son  of  one  of  the  owners  of  the 


300  THE     CHAINBEAEEE. 

soil,  and  the  attorney  in  fact  of  both.  As  for  the  old  niao 
himself,  I  could  see  that  he  looked  very  Dutch  ;  which  im 
plied  a  stubborn  resolution  bordering  on  obstinacy  ;  unmoved 
adherence  to  what  he  conceived  to  be  right ;  and  a  strong 
dislike  to  his  present  neighbours,  in  addition  to  other  reasonsr 
on  account  of  their  having  come  from  the  eastward ;  a  race 
that  he  both  distrusted  and  respected  ;  disliked,  yet  covertly 
honoured,  for  many  a  quality  that  was  both  useful  and  good^ 

To  the  next  generation,  the  feeling  that  was  once  so  active 
between  the  descendants  of  Holland  among  ourselves,  and 
the  people  of  English  birth,  who  came  from  the  eastern 
States,  will  be  almost  purely  a  matter  of  history.  I  perceive 
that  my  father,  in  the  manuscript  he  has  transmitted  to  mer 
as  well  as  I  myself,  have  made  various  allusions  to  the  sub 
ject.  It  is  my  wish  to  be  understood  in  this  matter.  I  have 
introduced  it  solely  as  a  fact  that  is  beyond  controversy ; 
but,  I  trust,  without  any  undue  bigotry  of  opinion.  It  is 
possible  that  both  Mr.  Cornelius  Littlepage  and  his  son, 
unconsciously  to  ourselves  may  have  been  influenced  by  the 
ancient  prejudices  of  the  colonies ;  though  I  have  endea 
voured  scrupulously  to  avoid  them.  At  any  rate,  if  either 
of  iis  has  appeared  to  be  a  little  too  severe,  I  trust  the  reader 
will  remember  how  much  has  been  uttered  to  the  world  in 
reference  to  this  dislike,  by  the  Yankee,  and  how  little  by 
the  Dutchman,  during  the  last  century  and  a  half,  and  grant 
to  one  who  is  proud  of  the  little  Wood  from  Holland  that  he 
happens  to  possess,  the  privilege  of  showing,  at  least,  one  of 
the  phases  of  his  own  side  of  the  story.  Bat  it  is  time  to 
return  to  our  scene  in  the  hut. 

"  Chainbearer,"  commenced  Thousandacres,  after  the 
pause  already  mentioned  had  lasted  several  tninutes,  and 
speaking  with  a  dignity  that  could  only  have  proceeded  from 
*,he  intensity  of  his  feelings  ;  "  Chainbearer,  you've  been  an 
inimy  to  me  and  mine  sin'  the  day  we  first  met.  You  're 
an  inimy  by  your  cruel  callin' ;  yet  you've  the  boldness  to- 
thrust  yourself  into  my  very  hands !" 

"  I'm  an  enemy  to  all  knaves,  Tousantaeres,  ant  I  tont 
care  who  knows  it,"  answered  old  Andries,  sternly  ;  "  t,at 
ist  my  trate,  ast  well  ast  carryin'  chain ;  ant  I  wish  it  to 
pe  known  far  and  near.  Ast  for  pein'  your  enemy  by 
callin',  I  may  say  as  much  of  yourself;  since  there  coult  pe 


THE    CH  AINBEARER.  301 

no  surveying  or  carryin'  of  chain,  tit  all  t'e  people  help 
t'emselves  to  lant,  as  you  haf  tone  your  whole  life,  wit'out 
as  much  as  sayin'  to  t'e  owners  '  py  your  leaf.' " 

"Things  have  now  got  to  a  head  atween  us,  Chain- 
bearer,"  returned  the  squatter ;  "  but  seein'  that  you  're  in 
my  hands,  I  'm  ready  and  willin'  to  reason  the  p'int  with 
you,  in  hopes  that  we  may  yet  part  fri'nds,  and  that  this 
may  be  the  last  of  all  our  troubles.  You  and  I  be  gettin' 
to  be  oldish  men,  Chainbearer ;  and  it 's  fittin'  that  them 
that  be  gettin'  near  their  eends,  should  sometimes  think  on 
'em.  I  come  from  no  Dutch  colony,  but  from  a  part  of  the 
world  where  mankind  fears  God,  and  has  some  thoughts  of 
a  futur'  state." 

"  T'at  's  neit'er  here  nor  t'ere,  T'ousantacres,"  cried  An- 
dries,  impatiently.  "  Not  put  what  religion  is  a  goot  t'ing, 
and  a  t'ing  to  pe  venerated,  ant  honouret,  and  worshipet ; 
put  fat  it 's  out  of  place  in  a  squatter  country,  and  most  ot 
all  in  a  squatter's  mout'.  Can  you  telt  me  one  t'ing,  T'ou- 
santacres,  and  t'at  ist,  why  you  Yankees  pray  so  much,  ant 
call  on  Got  to  pless  you  ever  ot'er  wort,  and  turn  up  your 
eyes,  ant  look  so  temure  of  Suntays,  ant  t'en  go  ant  squat 
yourselfs  town  on  a  Tutchman's  lant  of  a  Montay?  I'm 
an  olt  man,  ant  haf  lifed  long  ant  seen  much,  ant  hope  I 
unterstant  some  of  t'at  which  I  haf  seen  ant  lifed  amongst, 
put  I  do  not  comprehent  t'at !  Yankee  religion  ant  Tutch 
religion  cannot  come  out  of  t'e  same  piple." 

"  I  should  think  not,  I  should  think  not,  Chainbearer ; 
and  I  hope  not,  in  the  bargain.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  justified 
by  ways  like  your'n,  or  a  religion  like  your'n.  That  which 
is  foreordained  will  come  to  pass,  let  what  will  happen,  and 
that 's  my  trust.  But,  leaving  religion  out  of  this  matter 
atween  us  altogether " 

"  Ay,  you  '11  do  well  to  do  t'at,"  growled  Chainbearer, 
"  for  religion  hast,  inteet,  very  little  to  do  wit'  it." 

"  I  say,"  answered  Thousandacres,  on  a  higher  key,  as 
if  resolute  to  make  himself  heard,  "  leaving  religion  for 
Sabba'  days  and  proper  occasions,  I  'm  ready  to  talk  this 
matter  over  on  the  footin'  of  reason,  and  not  only  to  tell 
you  my  say,  but  to  hear  your'n,  as  is  right  atween  man  and 
man." 

"  I  confess  a  strong  desire  to  listen  to  what  Thousand" 
26 


302  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

acres  has  to  say  in  defence  of  his  conduct,  Chainbearer,"  I 
now  thought  it  best  to  put  in ;  "  and  I  hope  you  will  so  far 
oblige  me  as  to  be  a  patient  listener.  I  am  very  willing 
that  you  should  answer,  for  I  know  of  no  person  to  whom 
I  would  sooner  trust  a  righteous  cause  than  yourself.  Pro 
ceed,  Thousandacres ;  my  old  friend  will  comply." 

Andries  did  conform  to  my  wishes,  thus  distinctly  ex 
pressed,  but  it  was  not  without  sundry  signs  of  disquiet,  a$, 
expressed  in  his  honest  countenance,  and  a  good  deal  of 
subdued  muttering  about  "  Yankee  cunnin'  and  holy  gotli 
ness,  t'at  is  dresset  up  in  wolf's  clot'in  ;"  Chainbearer  mean 
ing  to  express  the  native  garment  of  the  sheep  by  the  lattei 
expression,  but  falling  into  a  confusion  of  images  that  is  by 
no  means  rare  among  the  men  of  his  caste  and  people.  After 
a  pause,  the  squatter  proceeded. 

"  In  talkin'  this  matter  over,  young  man,  I  purpose  to 
begin  at  the  beginnin'  of  things,"  he  said ;  "  for  I  allow,  if 
you  grant  any  value  to  titles,  and  king's  grants,  and  sich 
sort  of  things,  that  my  rights  here  be  no  great  matter.  But, 
beginnin'  at  the  beginnin',  the  case  is  very  different.  You  '11 
admit,  I  s'pose,  that  the  Lord  created  the  heavens  and  the 
'arth,  and  that  he  created  man  to  be  master  over  the  last." 

"  What  of  t'at  ?"  eagerly  cried  Chainbearer.  "  What  of 
t'at,  olt  T'ousantacres  1  So  t'e  Lort  createt  yonter  eagle 
t'at  is  fly  in'  so  far  apove  your  heat,  put  it 's  no  sign  you  are 
to  kill  him,  or  he  ist  to  kill  you." 

"  Hear  to  reason,  Chainbearer,  and  let  me  have  my  say; 
a'ter  which  I  'm  willing  to  hear  you.  I  begin  at  the  begin 
nin',  when  man  was  first  put  in  possession  of  the  'arth,  to 
till,  and  to  dig,  and  to  cut  saw-logs,  and  to  make  lumber, 
jist  as  it  suited  his  wants  and  inclinations.  Now,  Adam 
was  the  father  of  all,  and  to  him  and  his  posterity  was  the 
possession  of  the  'arth  given,  by  Him  whose  title 's  worth 
that  of  all  the  kings,  and  governors,  and  assemblies  in  the 
known  world.  Adam  lived  his  time,  and  left  all  things  to 
his  posterity,  and  so  has  it  been  from  father  to  son,  down 
to  our  own  day  and  giniration,  accordin'  to  the  law  of  God, 
though  not  accordin'  to  the  laws  of  man." 

"  Well,  admittin'  all  you  say,  squatter,  how  does  t'at 
make  your  right  here  petter  t'an  t'at  of  any  ot'er  man  ?" 
demanded  Andries,  disdainfully. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  303 

"  Why,  reason  tells  us  where  a  man's  rights  begin,  you  '11 
see,  Chainbearer.  Here  is  the  'arth,  as  I  told  you,  given  to 
man,  to  be  used  for  his  wants.  When  you  and  I  are  born, 
some  parts  of  the  world  is  in  use,  and  some  parts  isn't.  We 
want  land,  when  we  are  old  enough  to  turn  our  hands  to 
labour,  and  I  make  my  pitch  out  here  in  the  woods,  say 
where  no  man  has  pitched  afore  me.  Now,  in  my  judg 
ment,  that  makes  the  best  of  titles,  the  Lord's  title."  * 

"  Well,  t'en,  you  've  got  your  title  from  t'e  Lord,"  an 
swered  Chainbearer,  "  and  you  Ve  got  your  lant.  I  s'pose 
you  '11  not  take  all  t'e  'art'  t'at  is  not  yet  peoplet,  and  I 
shoult  like  to  know  how  you  wilt  run  your  lines  petween 
you  ant  your  next  neighpour.  Atmittin'  you  're  here  in  t'e 
woots,  how  much  of  t'e  lant  woult  you  take  for  your  own 
religious  uses,  and  how  much  woult  you  leaf  for  t'e  next 
comer  ?" 

"  Each  man  would  take  as  much  as  was  necessary  for 
his  wants,  Chainbearer,  and  hold  as  much  as  he  possessed." 

"  Put  what  ist  wants,  ant  what  ist  possession  ?  Look 
arount  you,  T'ousantacres,  and  tell  me  how  much  of  t'ia 
fery  spot  you  'd  haf  a  mint  to  claim,  under  your  Lort's 
title?" 

"  How  much  ?  As  much  as  I  have  need  on — enough  to 
feed  me  and  mine — and  enough  for  lumber,  and  to  keep  the 
b'ys  busy.  It  would  somewhat  depend  on  sarcumstances : 
I  might  want  more  at  one  time  than  at  another,  as  b'ys  grew 
up,  and  the  family  increased  in  numbers." 

"Enough  for  lumper  how  long?  and  to  keep  t'e  poys 

*  Lest  the  reader  should  suppose  Mr.  Mordaunt  Littlepage  is  here 
recording,  uselessly,  the  silly  sayings  of  a  selfish,  ignorant  and  vul. 
gar  robber,  it  may  be  well  to  add,  that  doctrines  of  a  calibre,  consi 
dered  in  respect  of  morals  and  logic,  similar  to  this,  though  varying 
according  to  circumstances  and  the  points  it  is  desired  to  establish, 
are  constantly  published  in  journals  devoted  to  anti-rentism  in  the 
state  of  New  York,  and  men  have  acted  on  these  principles  even  to 
the  shedding  of  blood.  We  purpose,  when  we  come  to  our  third 
manuscript,  which  relates  to  movements  of  our  immediate  time,  to 
distinctly  lay  before  the  reader  some  of  these  strange  doctrines  ;  en 
tertaining  little  doubt  that  those  who  originally  promulgated  them 
will  scarcely  admire  their  own  theories,  when  they  see  them  intro 
duced  into  a  work  that  will  contain  the  old-fashioned  notions  of  ho* 
«wty  and  right.— EDITOR. 


304  THE    CHAINBEAfcEtt. 

pusy  how  long  ?  For  a  tay,  or  a  week,  or  a  life,  or  a  great 
numper  of  lifes?  You  must  tell  me  t'at,  T'ousantacres, 
pefore  I  gif  cretit  to  your  title." 

"  Don't  be  onreasonable — don't  be  onreasonable  in  your 
questions,  Chainbearer ;  and  I  '11  answer  every  one  on  'em, 
and  in  a  way  to  satisfy  you,  or  any  judgmatical  man.  How 
long  do  I  want  the  lumber?  As  long  as  I've  use  "for  it. 
How  long  do  I  want  to  keep  the  b'ys  busy  ?  Till  they  're 
tired  of  the  place,  and  want  to  change  works.  When  a 
man 's  a- weary  of  his  pitch,  let  him  give  it  up  for  another, 
selling  his  betterments,  of  course,  to  the  best  chap  he  can 
light  on." 

"  Oh  !  you 't  sell  your  petterments,  woult  you  !  What ! 
sell  t'e  Lort's  title,  olt  T'ousantacres '/  Part  wit'  Heaven's 
gift  for  t'e  value  of  poor  miseraple  silver  and  golt  ?" 

"  You  don't  comprehend  Aaron,"  put  in  Prudence,  who 
saw  that  Chainbearer  was  likely  to  get  the  best  of  the  argu 
ment,  and  who  was  always  ready  to  come  to  the  rescue  of 
any  of  her  tribe,  whether  it  might  be  necessary  with  words, 
or  tooth  and  nail,  or  the  rifle.  "  You  don't,  by  no  manner 
of  means,  comprehend  Aaron,  Chainbearer.  His  idee  is, 
that  the  Lord  has  made  the  'arth  for  his  crittur's ;  that  any 
one  that  wants  land,  has  a  right  to  take  as  much  as  he 
wants,  and  to  use  it  as  long  as  he  likes  j  and,  when  he  has 
done,  to  part  with  his  betterments  for  sich  price  as  may  be 
agreed  on." 

"  I  stick  to  that,"  joined  in  the  squatter,  with  a  loud  hem, 
like  a  man  who  was  sensible  of  relief;  "  that 's  my  idee,  and 
I  'm  detarmined  to  live  and  die  by  it." 

"  You  've  lifed  py  it,  I  know  very  well,  T'ousantacres ; 
ant,  now  you  're  olt,  it 's  quite  likely  you  '11  tie  py  it.  As 
for  comprehentin',  you  don't  comprehent  yourself.  I'll  just 
ask  you,  in  the  first  place,  how  much  lant  do  you  holt  on 
t'is  very  spot  1  You  're  here  squattet  so  completely  ant 
finally  as  to  haf  puilt  a  mill.  Now  tell  me  how  much  lant 
you  holt,  t'at  when  I  come  to  squat  alongsite  of  you,  our 
fences  may  not  lap  on  one  anot'er.  I  ask  a  simple  question, 
ant  I  hope  for  a  plain  ant  straight  answer.  Show  me  t'e 
pountaries  of  your  tomain,  ant  how  much  of  t'e  worlt  you 
claim,  ant  how  much  you  ton't  claim." 

"  I  've  pretty   much    answered  that   question  already 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  305 

Chainbearer.     My  creed  is,  that  a  man  has  a  right  to  hold 
all  he  wants,  and  to  want  all  he  holds." 

"  Got  help  t'e  men,  t'en,  t'at  haf  to  carry  chain  petween 
you  and  your  neighpours,  T'ousantacres ;  a  man's  wants 
to-tay  may  tiffer  from  his  wants  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow 
from  t'e  next  tay,  ant  so  on  to  t'e  ent  of  time  !  On  your 
toctrine,  not'in'  woult  pe  settlet,  ant  all  woult  pe  at  sixes 
ant  sevens." 

"  I  don't  think  I  'm  fully  understood,  a'ter  all  that 's  been 
said,"  returned  the  squatter.  "  Here 's  two  men  start  in  life 
at  the  same  time,  and  both  want  farms.  Wa-a-1 ;  there 's 
the  wilderness,  or  may  be  it  isn't  all  wilderness,  though  it 
once  was.  One  chooses  to  buy  out  betterments,  and  he 
doos  so ;  t'other  plunges  in,  out  o'  sight  of  humanity,  and 
makes  his  pitch.  Both  them  men  's  in  the  right,  and  can 
hold  on  to  their  possessions,  I  say,  to  the  eend  of  time. 
That  is,  on  the  supposition  that  right  is  stronger  than 
might." 

"  Well,  well,"  answered  Chainbearer,  a  little  drily;  "ant 
s'pose  one  of  your  men  torft  want  to  puy  petterments,  put 
follows  t'ot'er,  ant  makes  his  pitch  in  t'e  wilterness,  also  ?" 

"  Let  him  do 't,  I  say  ;  t'is  his  right,  and  the  law  of  the 
Lord." 

"  Put,  s'pose  botj  your  young  men  want  t'e  same  pit  of 
wilt  lant !" 

"  First  come,  first  sarv'd ;  that 's  my  maxim.  Let  the 
sprighest  chap  have  the  land.  Possession 's  everything  in 
settling  land  titles." 

"  Well,  t'en,  to  please  you,  T'ousantacres,  we'll  let  one 
get  aheat  of  t'ot'er,  and  haf  his  possession  first ;  how  much 
shalt  he  occupy." 

"  As  much  as  he  wants,  I  've  told  you,  already." 

"  Ay,  put  when  his  slower  frient  comes  along,  ant  hast 
his  wants,  too,  ant  wishes  to  make  his  pitch  alongsite  of  his 
olt  neighpour,  where  is  t'e  pountary  petween  'em  to  be 
fount?" 

"Let  'em  agree  on't !  They  must  be  dreadful  poor 
neighbours,  if  they  can't  agree  on  so  small  a  matter  as 
that,"  said  Tobit,  who  was  getting  weary  of  the  argument. 

"Tpbitis  right,"  added  the  father;  "let  }em  agree  on 
their  line,  and  run  it  by  the  eye.     Curse  on  all  chains  and 
26* 


306  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

compasses,  say  I !  They  're  an  invention  of  the  devil,  to 
make  ill  blood  in  a  neighbourhood,  and  to  keep  strife  awake, 
when  our  bibles  tell  us  to  live  in  peace  with  all  mankind." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  understant  all  t'at,"  returned  Chainbearer, 
a  little  disdainfully.  "  A  yankee  piple  ist  a  fery  convenient 
pook.  T'ere  's  autority  in  it  for  all  sorts  of  toctrines  ant 
worshipping  ant  prayin',  ant  preachin',  ant  so  forth.  It  'a 
what  I  call  a  so-forth  piple,  Mortaunt,  ant  wilt  reat  pack- 
warts  as  well  ast  forwarts ;  put  all  t'e  chapters  into  one,  if 
necessary,  or  all  t'e  verses  into  chapters.  Sometimes  St. 
Luke  is  St.  Paul,  and  St.  John  ist  St.  Matt'ew.  I  Ve  he'rt 
your  tominies  expount,  and  no  two  expount  alike.  Novel 
ties  ist  t'e  religion  of  New  Englant,  ant  novelties,  in  t'e 
shape  of  ot'er  men's  lants,  is  t'e  creet  of  her  lofely  chiltren  ! 
Oh  !  yes,  I  've  seen  a  yankee  piple  !  Put,  this  toes'nt  settle 
our  two  squatters ;  bot'  of  whom  wants  a  sartain  hill  for  its 
lumper;  now,  which  is  to  haf  it?" 

"  The  man  that  got  there  first,  I  've  told  you,  old  Chain- 
bearer,  and  once  tellin'  is  as  good  as  a  thousand.  If  the 
first  comer  looked  on  that  hill,  and  said  to  himself,  *  that 
hill 's  mine,'  't  is  his'n." 

"  Well,  t'at  ist  making  property  fast !  Wast  t'at  t'e  way, 
T'ousantacres,  t'at  you  took  up  your  estate  on  t'e  Moose- 
ridge  property  ?" 

"  Sartain — I  want  no  better  title.  I  got  here  first,  and 
tuck  up  the  land,  and  shall  continue  to  tuck  it  up,  as  I  want 
it.  There's  no  use  in  being  mealy-mouthed,  for  I  like  to 
speak  out,  though  the  landlord's  son  be  by !" 

"  Oh  !  you  speak  out  lout  enouf,  ant  plain  enouf,  ant  I 
shoultn't  wonter  if  you  got  tucket  up  yourself,  one  tay,  for 
your  pains.  Here  ist  a  tifficulty,  however,  t'at  I  '11  just 
mention,  T'ousantacres,  for  your  consiteration.  You  take 
possession  of  timper-lant,  by  lookin'  at  it,  you  say " 

"  Even  lookin'  at  isn't  necessary,"  returned  the  squatter, 
eager  to  widen  the  grasp  of  his  rights.  «'  It 's  enough  that 
a  man  wants  the  land,  and  he  comes,  or  sends  to  secure  it. 
Possession  is  everything,  and  I  call  it  possession,  to  crave 
a  spot,  and  to  make  some  sort  of  calkerlation,  or  works, 
reasonably  near  it.  That  gives  a  right  to  cut  and  clear, 
and  when  a  clearin's  begun,  it 's  betterments,  and  every 
body  allows  that  betterments  may  be  both  bought  and  sold.' 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  307 

" Well,  now  we  understant  each  o'ter.  Put  here  1st  t'e 
small  tifficulty  I  woult  mention.  One  General  Littlepage 
and  one  Colonel  Pollock  took  a  fancy  to  t'is  spot  long  pefore 
t'e  olt  French  war ;  ant  pesites  fancyin'  t'e  place,  and  sentin' 
messengers  to  look  at  it,  t'ey  pought  out  t'e  Injin  right  in  t'e 
first  place ;  t'en  t'ey  pought  of  t'e  king,  who  hat  all  t'e  lant 
in  t'e  country,  at  t'at  time,  ast  hatn't  ot'er  owners.  T'en 
t'ey  sent  surfeyors  to  run  t'e  lines,  ant  t'em  very  surfeyors 
passet  along  py  t'is  river,  ast  I  know  py  t'eir  fielt-pooks  (field- 
books)  :  t'en  more  surfeyors  wast  sent  out  to  tivite  it  into  great 
lots,  ant  now  more  still  haf  come  to  tivite  it  into  small  lots :  ant 
t'ey  've  paid  quit-rents  for  many  years,  ant  tone  ot'er  t'ings 
to  prove  t'ey  want  t'is  place  as  much  as  you  want  it  your 
self.  T'ey  haf  hat  it  more  ast  a  quarter  of  a  century,  ant 
exerciset  ownership  over  it  all  t'at  time ;  ant  wantet  it  very 
much  t'e  whole  of  t'at  quarter  of  a  century,  ant,  if  t'e  trut' 
was  sait,  want  it  still." 

A  long  pause  followed  this  statement,  during  which  the 
different  members  of  the  family  looked  at  each  other,  as  if 
in  quest  of  support.  The  idea  of  there  being  any  other 
side  to  the  question  than  that  they  had  been  long  accustomed 
to  consider  so  intently,  was  novel  to  them,  and  they  were  a 
little  bewildered  by  the  extraordinary  circumstance.  This 
is  one  of  the  great  difficulties  under  which  the  inhabitant 
of  a  narrow  district  labours,  in  all  that  pertains  to  his  per 
sonal  notions  and  tastes,  and  a  good  deal  in  what  relates  to 
his  principles.  This  it  is  that  makes  the  true  provincial, 
with  his  narrow  views,  set  notions,  conceit,  and  unhesitating 
likes  and  dislikes.  When  one  looks  around  him  and  sees 
how  very  few  are  qualified,  by  experience  and  knowledge 
of  the  world,  to  utter  opinions  at  all,  he  is  apt  to  be  aston 
ished  at  finding  how  many  there  are  that  do  it.  I  make  no 
doubt  that  the  family  of  Thousandacres  was  just  as  well 
satisfied  with  their  land-ethics,  as  Paley  ever  could  have 
been  with  his  moral  philosophy,  or  Newton  with  his  mathe 
matical  demonstrations. 

"  I  don't  wonter  you  're  callet  T'ousantacres,  Aaron  Tim- 
perman,"  continued  Chainbearer,  pushing  his  advantage, 
"  for  wit'  such  a  title  to  your  estate,  you  might  as  well  pe 
tarmet  Ten  T'ousantacres  at  once,  ant  more,  too !  Nay,  I 
wonter,  while  your  eyes  was  trawin'  up  title  teets,  t'at  you 


303  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

shoult  haf  peen  so  moterate,  for  it  was  just  as  easy  to  pos 
sess  a  patent  on  t'at  sort  of  right,  as  to  possess  a  single 
farm." 

But  Thousandacres  had  made  up  his  mind  to  pursue  the 
subject  no  further ;  and,  while  it  was  easy  to  see  that  fiery 
passions  were  burning  within  him,  he  seemed  now  bent  on 
bringing  a  conference,  from  which  he  doubtless  expected 
different  results,  to  a  sudden  close.  It  was  with  difficulty 
that  he  suppressed  the  volcano  that  was  raging  within,  but 
he  so  far  succeeded  as  to  command  Tobit  to  shut  up  his 
prisoner  again. 

"  Take  him  away,  b'ys,  take  him  back  to  the  store-'us'," 
said  the  old  squatter,  rising  and  moving  a  little  on  one  side 
to  permit  Andries  to  pass,  as  if  afraid  to  trust  himself  too 
near ;  "  he  was  born  the  sarvent  of  the  rich,  and  will  die 
their  sarvent.  Chains  be  good  enough  for  him,  and  I  wish 
him  no  greater  harm  than  to  carry  chains  the  rest  of  his 
days." 

"  Oh !  you  're  a  true  son  of  Liperty !"  called  out  the 
Chainbearer,  as  he  quietly  returned  to  his  prison  ;  "  a  true 
son  of  Liperty,  accordin'  to  your  own  conceit !  You  want 
efereyt'ing  in  your  own  way,  and  eferyt'ing  in  your  own 
pocket.  T'e  Lori's  law  is  a  law  for  T'ousantacres,  put  not 
a  law  to  care  for  Cornelius  Littlepage  or  Tirck  Pollock !" 

Although  my  old  friend  was  escorted  to  his  prison,  no 
attempt  was  made  to  remove  me.  On  the  contrary,  Pru 
dence  joined  her  husband  without,  followed  by  all  her  young 
fry,  and  for  a  moment  I  fancied  myself  forgotten  and  de 
serted.  A  movement  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  however, 
drew  my  attention  there,  and  I  saw  Lowiny  standing  on 
tiptoe,  with  a  finger  on  her  lips,  the  sign  of  silence,  while 
she  made  eager  gestures  with  the  other  hand,  for  me  to  enter 
a  small  passage  that  communicated  by  means  of  a  ladder 
with  the  loft  of  the  hut.  My  moccasins  were  now  of  great 
advantage  to  me.  Without  pausing  to  reflect  on  conse 
quences,  or  to  look  around,  I  did  as  directed,  drawing  to 
the  door  after  me.  There  was  a  small  window  in  the  sort 
of  passage  in*which  I  now  found  myself  alone  with  the  girl, 
and  my  first  impulse  was  to  force  my  body  through  it,  for 
it  had  neither  glass  nor  sash,  but  Lowiny  caught  my  arms. 

"  Lord  ha'  massy  on  us !"  whispered  the  girl  —  "  you  M 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  309 

be  seen  and  taken,  or  shot !  For  your  life  don't  go  out  there 
now.  Here 's  a  hole  for  a  cellar,  and  there 's  the  trap  —  go 
down  there,  and  wait  'till  you  hear  news  from  me." 

There  was  no  time  for  deliberation,  and  the  sight  of  Chain- 
bearer's  escort,  as  they  proceeded  towards  the  store-house, 
satisfied  me  that  the  girl  was  right.  She  held  up  the  trap, 
and  I  descended  into  the  hole  that  answered  the  purposes 
of  a  cellar.  I  heard  Lowiny  draw  a  chest  over  the  trap, 
and  then  I  fancied  I  could  distinguish  the  creaking  of  the 
rounds  of  the  ladder,  as  she  went  up  into  the  loft,  which 
was  the  place  where  she  usually  slept. 

All  this  occurred  literally  in  about  one  minute  of  time. 
Another  minute  may  have  passed,  when  I  heard  the  heavy 
tread  of  Thousandacres'  foot  on  the  floor  above  me,  and  the 
clamour  of  many  voices,  all  speaking  at  once.  It  was  evi 
dent  that  I  was  missed,  and  a  search  had  already  been 
commenced.  For  half  a  minute,  nothing  was  very  intelli 
gible  to  me ;  then  I  heard  the  shrill  voice  of  Prudence  calling 
for  Lowiny. 

"  Lowiny  —  you  Lowiny  !"  she  cried  —  "  where  has  the 
gal  got  to  7" 

"  I  'm  here,  mother" — answered  my  friend,  from  her  loft 
—  "  you  told  me  to  come  up,  and  look  for  your  new  bible." 

I  presume  this  was  true ;  for  Prudence  had  really  des 
patched  the  girl  on  that  errand,  and  it  must  have  sufficed  to 
lull  any  suspicions  of  her  daughter's  being  connected  with 
my  disappearance,  if  any  such  had  been  awakened.  The 
movements  of  footsteps  was  now  quick  over  my  head,  those 
of  several  men  being  among  them ;  and  in  the  confusion  of 
voices,  I  heard  that  of  Lowiny,  who  must  have  descended 
the  ladder  and  joined  in  the  search. 

"  He  mustn't  be  allowed  to  get  off,  on  no  account,"  said 
Thousandacres,  aloud,  "  or  we  're  all  ondone.  Everything 
we  have  will  fall  into  their  hands,  and  mill,  logs  and  all, 
will  be  utterly  lost.  We  shan't  even  have  time  to  get  off 
the  gear  and  the  household  stuff." 

"  He 's  up  stairs" — cried  one — "  he  must  be  down  cellar," 
said  another.  Steps  went  up  the  ladder,  and  I  heard  the 
chest  drawn  from  the  trap ;  and  a  stream  of  light  entering 
the  place,  notified  me  that  the  trap  was  raised.  The  place  I 
was  in  was  a  hole  twenty  feet  square,  roughly  walled  with 


310  THE     CII  AINBE  ARER. 

stones,  and  nearly  empty,  though  it  did  contain  a  meat- 
barrel  or  two,  and  a  few  old  tubs.  In  the  winter,  it  would 
have  been  filled  with  vegetables.  There  was  no  place  to 
hide  in,  and  an  attempt  at  concealment  would  have  led  to  a 
discovery.  I  withdrew  to  a  corner,  in  a  part  of  the  cellar 
that  was  quite  dark,  but  thought  myself  lost  when  I  saw  a 
pair  of  legs  descending  the  ladder.  Almost  at  the  same  mo 
ment,  three  of  the  men  and  two  of  the  women  came  into  the 
hole,  a  fourth  female,  whom  I  afterwards  ascertained  to  be 
Lowiny  herself,  standing  in  the  trap  in  such  a  way  as  to 
double  the  darkness  below.  The  first  man  who  got  down 
began  to  tumble  the  tubs  about,  and  to  look  into  the  corners  ; 
and  the  lucky  thought  occurred  to  me  to  do  the  same  thing. 
By  keeping  as  busy  as  the  rest  of  them,  I  actually  escaped 
detection  in  the  dark ;  and  Tobit  soon  rushed  to  the  ladder, 
calling  out,  "  the  window  —  the  window  —  he 's  not  here  — - 
the  window  !"  In  half  a  minute  the  cellar  was  empty  again ; 
or  no  one  remained  but  myself. 

At  first  I  had  great  difficulty  in  believing  in  my  good  luck; 
but  the  trap  fell,  and  the  profound  stillness  of  the  place  satis 
fied  me  that  I  had  avoided  that  danger,  at  least.  This  escape 
was  so  singular  and  unexpected,  that  I  could  hardly  believe 
in  its  reality  ;  though  real  it  was,  to  all  intents  and  purposes. 
The  absurd  often  strikes  the  imagination  in  an  absurd  way ; 
and  so  it  proved  with  me  on  this  occasion.  I  sat  down  on 
a  tub  and  laughed  heartily,  when  I  felt  absolutely  certain  all 
was  right,  holding  my  sides  lest  the  sound  of  my  voice  might 
yet  betray  me.  Lowiny  was  similarly  infected,  for  I  heard 
peals  of  girlish  laughter  from  her,  as  her  brothers  tumbled 
about  barrels,  and  tubs,  and  bedsteads,  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  building,  in  their  fruitless  and  hurried  search.  This 
merriment  did  not  pass  unrebuked,  however;  Prudence 
lending  her  daughter  a  box  on  the  side  of  the  head,  that,  in 
one  sense,  reached  even  my  ears ;  though  it  probably  aided 
in  saving  the  girl  from  the  suspicion  of  being  in  my  secret, 
by  the  very  natural  character  of  her  girlish  indulgence. 
Two  or  three  minutes  after  the  trap  closed  on  me  for  the 
second  time,  the  sounds  of  footsteps  and  voices  overhead 
ceased,  and  the  hut  seemed  deserted. 

My  situation  now  was  far  from  comfortable.  Confined 
m  a  dark  cellar,  with  no  means  of  escaping  but  by  the  trap 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  311 

and  the  almost  certainty  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  my 
captors,  should  I  attempt  such  a  thing,  I  now  began  to  re 
gret  having  entered  so  readily  into  Lowiny's  scheme.  There 
would  be  a  certain  loss  of  dignity  in  a  recapture,  that  was 
not  pleasant  in  itself;  and  I  will  own,  I  began  to  have  some 
doubts  of  my  eventual  safety,  should  I  again  come  under  the 
control  of  such  spirits  as  those  of  Thousandacres  and  his 
eldest  son.  Buried  in  that  cellar,  I  was  in  a  manner  placed 
immediately  beneath  those  whose  aim  it  was  to  secure  me, 
rendering  escape  impossible,  and  detection  nearly  unavoid 
able. 

Such  were  my  meditations  when  light  again  streamed  into 
the  cellar.  The  trap  was  raised,  and  presently  I  heard  my 
name  uttered  in  a  whisper.  Advancing  to  the  ladder,  I  saw 
Lowiny  holding  the  door,  and  beckoning  for  me  to  ascend. 
I  followed  her  directions  blindly,  and  was  soon  at  her  side. 
The  girl  was  nearly  convulsed  between  dread  of  detection 
and  a  desire  to  laugh ;  my  emerging  from  the  cellar  recall 
ing  to  her  imagination  all  the  ludicrous  circumstances  of  the 
late  search. 

"  Warn't  it  queer  that  none  on  'em  know'd  you !"  she 
whispered  ;  then  commanding  silence  by  a  hasty  gesture. 
"  Don't  speak ;  for  they  're  s'archin'  still,  cluss  by,  and 
some  on  'em  may  follow  me  here.  I  wanted  to  get  you  out 
of  the  cellar,  as  some  of  the  young-uns  will  be  rummagin' 
there  soon  for  pork  for  supper ;  and  their  eyes  are  as  sharp 
as  needles.  Don't  you  think  you  could  crawl  into  the  mill  ? 
It 's  stopped  now,  and  wun't  be  goin'  ag'in  till  this  stir 's 
over. 

"  I  should  be  seen,  my  good  girl,  if  any  of  your  people 
are  looking  for  me  near  at  hand." 

"  I  don't  know  that.  Come  to  the  door,  and  you  Ml  see 
there  is  a  way.  Everybody  's  lookin'  on  the  right  side  of 
this  house ;  and  by  creepin'  as  far  as  them  logs,  you  'd  be 
pretty  safe.  If  you  reach  the  mill  safely,  climb  up  into  the 
loft." 

I  took  a  moment  to  survey  the  chances.  At  the  distance 
of  a  hundred  feet  from  the  house  there  commenced  a  large 
bed  of  saw-logs,  which  were  lying  alongside  of  each  other; 
and  the  timber  being  from  two  to  four  feet  in  diameter,  it 
would  be  very  possible  to  creep  among  it,  up  to  the  mill 


312  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

itself,  into  which  even  several  of  the  logs  had  been  rolled. 
The  great  difficulty  would  be  in  reaching  the  logs  through  a 
perfectly  open  space.  The  house  would  be  a  cover,  as 
against  most  of  the  family,  who  were  busy  examining  every 
thing  like  a  cover  on  its  opposite  side  ;  no  one  supposing  for 
a  moment  I  could  be  near  the  mill,  inasmuch  as  it  stood 
directly  in  front  of  the  spot  where  the  crowd  was  collected 
at  the  moment  of  my  sudden  disappearance.  But  the  boys 
and  girls  were  flying  around  in  all  directions ;  rendering  it 
uncertain  how  long  they  would  remain  in  a  place,  or  how 
long  their  eyes  would  be  turned  away  from  my  path. 

It  was  necessary  to  do  something,  and  I  determined  to 
make  an  effort.  Throwing  myself  on  the  ground,  I  crawled, 
rather  slowly  than  fast,  across  that  terrible  space,  and  got 
safely  among  the  logs.  As  there  was  no  outcry,  I  knew  I 
had  not  been  seen.  It  was  now  comparatively  easy  to  reach 
the  mill.  Another  dangerous  experiment,  however,  was  to 
expose  my  person  by  climbing  up  to  the  loft.  I  could  not  do 
this  without  running  the  risk  of  being  seen ;  and  I  felt  the 
necessity  of  using  great  caution.  I  first  raised  my  head 
high  enough  to  survey  the  state  of  things  without.  Luckily 
the  house  was  still  between  me  and  most  of  my  enemies ; 
though  the  small-fry  constantly  came  into  view  and  vanished. 
I  looked  round  for  a  spot  to  ascend,  and  took  a  final  survey 
of  the  scene.  There  stood  Lovviny  in  the  door  of  the  hut, 
her  hands  clasped,  and  her  whole  air  expressive  of  concern. 
She  saw  my  head,  I  knew,  and  I  made  a  gesture  of  encou 
ragement,  which  caused  her  to  start.  At  the  next  instant 
my  foot  was  on  a  brace,  and  my  body  was  rising  to  the 
beams  above.  I  do  not  think  my  person  was  uncovered 
ten  seconds ;  and  no  clamour  succeeded.  I  now  felt  there 
were  really  some  chances  of  my  finally  effecting  an  escape 
and  glad  enough  was  I  to  think  so. 


THE    CHAINBE  ARER 


CHAPTER  XXin. 


"Alone,  amid  the  shades, 
Still  in  harmonious  intercourse  they  liv'd 
The  rural  day,  and  talked  the  flowing  heart, 
Or  sigh'd,  and  looked  unutterable  things. 

THOMSON. 


THAT  was  a  somewhat  breathless  moment.  The  inten 
sity  with  which  I  listened  for  any  sound  that  might  announce 
my  discovery,  was  really  painful.  I  almost  fancied  I  heard 
a  shout,  but  none  came.  Then  I  gave  myself  up,  actually 
believing  that  footsteps  were  rushing  towards  the  mill,  with 
a  view  to  seize  me.  It  was  imagination  ;  the  rushing  of 
the  waters  below  being  the  only  real  sound  that  disturbed 
the  silence  of  the  place.  I  had  time  to  breathe,  and  to  look 
about  me. 

As  might  be  supposed,  the  mill  was  very  rudely  con 
structed.  I  have  spoken  of  a  loft,  but  there  was  nothing 
that  really  deserved  the  term.  Some  refuse  boards  were 
laid  about,  here  and  there,  on  the  beams,  making  fragments 
of  rough  flooring ;  and  my  first  care  was  to  draw  several 
of  these  boards  close  together,  placing  them  two  or  three  in 
thickness,  so  as  to  make  a  place  where,  by  lying  down,  I 
could  not  be  seen  by  any  one  who  should  happen  to  enter 
the  mill.  There  lay  what  the  millers  call  a  bunch  of 
cherry-wood  boards  at  no  great  distance  from  the  spot 
where  the  roof  joined  the  plate  of  the  building,  and  within 
this  bunch  I  arranged  my  hiding-place.  No  ostensible 
change  was  necessary  to  complete  it,  else  the  experiment 
might  have  been  hazardous  among  those  who  were  so  much 
accustomed  to  note  circumstances  of  that  nature.  The 
manner  in  which  the  lumber  was  arranged  when  I  reached 
the  spot  was  so  little  different  from  what  it  was  when  I  had 
done  with  it,  as  scarcely  to  attract  attention. 

No  sooner  was  my  hiding-place  completed  to  my  mind, 
ban  I  looked  round  to  see  if  there  were  any  means  of  making 
27 


314  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

observations  without.  The  building  was  not  shingled,  bat 
the  rain  was  kept  out  by  placing  slabs  up  and  down,  as  is 
often  seen  in  the  ruder,  rustic,  frontier  architecture  of 
America.  With  the  aid  of  my  knife,  I  soon  had  a  small 
hole  between  two  of  these  slabs,  at  a  place  favourable  to 
such  an  object ;  and,  though  it  was  no  larger  than  the  eye 
itself,  it  answered  every  purpose.  Eagerly  enough  did  I 
now  commence  my  survey. 

The  search  was  still  going  on  actively.  Those  expe 
rienced  border-men  well  knew  it  was  not  possible  for  me 
to  cross  the  open  ground  and  to  reach  the  woods  in  the  short 
interval  of  time  between  my  disappearance  and  their  dis 
covery  of  the  fact,  and  they  consequently  felt  certain  that 
I  was  secreted  somewhere  near  the  building.  Every  house 
had  been  searched,  though  no  one  thought  of  entering  the 
mill,  because  my  movement,  as  all  supposed,  was  necessa 
rily  in  an  opposite  direction.  The  fences  were  examined, 
and  every  thing  like  a  cover  on  the  proper  side  of  the  house 
was  looked  into  with  care  and  activity.  It  would  seem  that, 
just  as  I  took  my  first  look  through  the  hole,  my  pursuers 
were  at  fault.  The  search  had  been  made,  and  of  course 
without  effect.  Nothing  likely  to  conceal  me  remained  to 
be  examined.  It  was  necessary  to  come  to  a  stand,  and  to 
concert  measures  for  a  further  search.  * 

The  family  of  squatters  was  too  much  accustomed  tc 
their  situation  and  its  hazards,  not  to  be  familiar  with  all 
the  expedients  necessary  to  their  circumstances.  They 
placed  the  younger  children  on  the  look-out,  at  the  points 
most  favourable  to  my  retreat,  should  I  be  in  a  situation  to 
attempt  going  off  in  that  quarter  of  the  clearing  ;  and, 
then,  the  father  collected  his  older  sons  around  him,  and  the 
whole  cluster  of  them,  seven  in  number,  came  slowly  walk 
ing  towards  the  mill.  The  excitement  of  the  first  pursuit 
had  sensibly  abated,  and  these  practised  woodsmen  were 
in  serious  consultation  on  the  measures  next  to  be  taken.  In 
this  condition,  the  whole  party  entered  the  mill,  taking  their 
seats,  or  standing  in  a  circle  directly  beneath  my  post,  and 
within  six  feet  of  me.  As  a  matter  of  course,  I  heard  all 
that  was  said,  though  completely  hid  from  view. 

"  Here  we  shall  be  safe  from  the  long  ears  of  little  folks," 
said  the  father,  as  he  placed  his  own  large  frame  on  the  log 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  315 

thit  was  next  to  be  sawed.  "  This  has  been  a  most  onac- 
countable  thing,  Tobit,  and  I  'd  no  idee  at  all  them  'ere  city 
bred  gentry  was  so  expart  with  their  legs.  I  sometimes 
think  he  can't  be  a  Littlepage,  but  that  he 's  one  of  our  hill 
folks,  tossed  out  and  mannered  a'ter  the  towns'  folks,  to 
take  a  body  in.  It  seems  an  onpossibility  that  the  man 
should  get.  off,  out  of  the  midst  on  us,  and  we  not  see  or 
hear  anything  on  him  !" 

"  We  may  as  well  give  up  the  lumber  and  the  better 
ments,  at  once,"  growled  Tobit,  "as  let  him  get  clear. 
Should  he  reach  Ravensnest,  the  first  thing  he  'd  do  would 
be  to  swear  out  warrants  ag'in  us  all,  and  Newcome  is  not 
the  man  to  stand  by  squatters  in  trouble.  He  'd  no  more 
dare  deny  his  landlord,  than  deny  his  meetin'." 

This  expression  of  Tobit's  is  worthy  of  notice.  In  the 
estimation  of  a  certain  class  of  religionists  among  us,  the 
"  meetin',"  as  the  young  squatter  called  his  church,  had  the 
highest  place  in  his  estimate  of  potentates  and  powers ;  it  is 
to  be  feared,  often  even  higher  than  the  dread  being  for 
whose  worship  that  "  meetin' "  existed. 

"  I  don't  think  as  hard  of  the  'squire  as  all  that,"  an 
swered  Thousandacres.  "  He  '11  never  send  out  a  warrant 
ag'in  us,  without  sendin'  out  a  messenger  to  let  us  hear  of 
it,  and  that  in  time  to  get  us  all  out  of  the  way." 

"  And  who 's  to  get  the  boards  in  the  creek  out  of  the 
way  afore  the  water  rises  1  And  who  's  to  hide  or  carry 
off  all  them  logs  1  There 's  more  than  a  ton  weight  of  my 
blood  and  bones  in  them  very  logs,  in  the  shape  of  hard  la 
bour,  and  I  '11  fight  like  a  she-bear  for  her  cubs  afore  I  '11 
be  driven  from  them  without  pay." 

It  is  very  surprising  that  one  who  set  this  desperate  value 
on  the  property  he  deemed  his,  should  have  so  little  regard 
for  that  which  belonged  to  other  persons.  In  this  respect, 
however,  Tobit's  feeling  was  no  more  than  submission  to 
the  general  law  of  our  nature,  which  reverses  the  images 
before  our  moral  vision,  precisely  as  we  change  our  own 
relations  to  them. 

"  It  would  go  hard  with  me  afore  I  should  give  up  the 
lumber  or  the  clearin',  "  returned  Thousandacres,  with  em 
phasis.  "  We  've  fit  King  George  for  liberty,  and  why 
shouldn't  we  fight  for  our  property  ?  Of  what  use  is  liberty 


316  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

at  all,  if  it  won't  bear  a  man  harmless  out  of  a  job  of  thii 
sort  ?  I  despise  sich  liberty,  b'ys,  and  want  none  on  it." 

All  the  young  men  muttered  their  approbation  of  such  a 
sentiment,  and  it  was  easy  enough  to  understand  that  the 
elevated  notion  of  personal  rights  entertained  by  Thousand- 
acres  found  an  answering  echo  in  the  bosom  of  each  of  his 
heroic  sons.  I  dare  say  the  same  sympathy  would  have 
existed  between  them,  had  they  been  a  gang  of  pickpockets 
collected  in  council  in  a  room  of  the  Black  Horse,  St.  Cath 
arine's  lane,  Wapping,  London. 

"  But  what  can  we  do  with  the  young  chap,  father,  should 
we  take  him  ag'in  ?"  asked  Zephaniah ;  a  question,  as  all 
will  see,  of  some  interest  to  myself.  "  He  can't  be  kept  a 
great  while  without  having  a  stir  made  a'ter  him,  and  that 
would  break  us  up,  sooner  or  later.  We  may  have  a  clear 
right  to  the  work  of  our  hands ;  but,  on  the  whull,  I  rather 
conclude  the  country  is  ag'in  squatters." 

"  Who  cares  for  the  country  ?"  answered  Thousandacres 
fiercely.  "  If  it  wants  young  Littlepage,  let  it  come  ana 
s'arch  for  him,  as  we've  been  doin'.  If  that  chap  falls  into 
my  hands  once  more,  he  never  quits  'em  alive,  unless  he 
gives  me  a  good  and  sufficient  deed  to  two  hundred  acres, 
includin'  the  mill,  and  a  receipt  in  full,  on  his  father's  be 
half,  for  all  back  claims.  On  them  two  principles  my  mind 
is  set,  and  not  to  be  altered." 

A  long  pause  succeeded  this  bold  announcement,  and  I 
began  to  be  afraid  that  my  suppressed  breathing  might  be 
overheard  in  the  profound  stillness  that  followed.  But  Ze 
phaniah  spoke  in  time  to  relieve  me  from  this  apprehension, 
and  in  a  way  to  satisfy  me  that  the  party  below,  all  of 
whom  were  concealed  from  my  sight,  had  been  pondering 
on  what  had  been  said  by  their  leader,  and  not  listening  to 
detect  any  tell-tale  sounds  from  me. 

"  I  've  heern  say,"  Zephaniah  remarked,  "  that  deeds 
gi'n  in  that  way  won't  stand  good  in  law.  'Squire  New- 
come  was  talkin'  of  sich  transactions  the  very  last  time  I 
was  out  at  the  Nest." 

"  I  wish  a  body  could  find  out  what  would  stand  good  in 
law  !"  growled  Thousandacres.  "  They  make  their  laws, 
and  lay  great  account  in  havin'  'em  obsarved  ,•  and  then, 
when  a  man  comes  into  court  with  everything  done  accord- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  317 

in'  to  their  own  rules,  five  or  six  attorneys  start  up  and  bawl 
out,  *  this  is  ag'in  law  !'  If  a  deed  is  to  set  forth  so  and  so, 
arid  is  to  have  the  name  writ  down  in  such  a  place,  and  is 
to  have  what  they  call «  hand  and  seal  and  date'  beside ;  and 
sich  bein'  the  law,  I  want  to  know  why  an  instrument  so 
made  won't  hold  good  by  their  confounded  laws  1  Law  is 
law,  all  over  the  world,  I  s'pose ;  and  though  it 's  an  ac 
cursed  thing,  if  men  agree  to  have  it,  they  ought  to  stand 
by  their  own  rules.  I  've  thought  a  good  deal  of  squeezin' 
writin's  out  of  this  young  Littlepage ;  and  just  as  my 
mind  's  made  up  to  do 't  if  I  can  lay  hands  on  him  ag'in, 
you  come  out  and  tell  me  sich  writin's  be  good  for  nothin'. 
Zeph,  Zeph — you  go  too  often  out  into  them  settlements,  and 
get  your  mind  pervarted  by  their  wickedness  and  talk." 

"  I  hope  not,  father,  though  I  own  I  do  like  to  go  there. 
I  've  come  to  a  time  of  life  when  a  man  thinks  of  marryin'; 
and  there  bein'  no  gal  here,  unless  it  be  one  of  my  own 
sisters,  it 's  nat'ral  to  look  into  the  next  settlement.  I  '11 
own  sich  has  been  my  object  in  going  to  the  Nest." 

"And  you  've  found  the  gal  you  set  store  by  ?  Out  with 
the  whull  truth,  like  a  man.  You  know  I  've  always  been 
set  ag'in  lyin'5  and  have  ever  endeavoured  to  make  the  whull 
of  you  speak  truth.  How  is  it,  Zephaniah  ?  have  you  found 
a  gal  to  your  mind,  and  who  is't?  Ourn  is  a  family  into 
which  any  body  can  come  by  askin',  you  '11  remember." 

"  Lord,  father !  Dus  Malbone  would  no  more  think  of 
askin'  me  to  have  her,  than  she  'd  think  of  marryin'  you  I 
I  *ve  offered  three  times ;  and  she 's  told  me,  as  plain  as  a 
woman  could  speak,  that  she  couldn't  no  how  consent,  and 
that  I  hadn't  ought  to  think  of  her  any  longer." 

"  Who  is  the  gal,  in  this  part  of  the  country,  that  holds 
her  head  so  much  higher  than  one  of  Thousandacres'  sons  ?" 
demanded  the  old  squatter,  with  some  such  surprise,  real  or 
affected,  as  a  Bourbon  might  be  supposed  to  feel  at  having 
his  alliance  spurned  on  the  score  of  blood.  "  I  'd  like  to 
see  her,  and  to  convarse  with  this  young  woman.  What 
did  you  call  her  name,  Zeph?" 

"  Dus  Malbone,  father,  and  the  young  woman  that  lives 
with  Chainbearer.     She  's  his  niece,  1  b'lieve,  or  something 
of  that  sort." 
27* 


318  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  Ha !  Chainbearer's  niece,  d'ye  say  ?     His  taken  da'gh 
ter  .     Isn't  there  some  mistake?" 

"Dus  Mai  bone  calls  old  Andries  *  Uncle  Chainbearer ,' 
and  I  s'pose  from  that  she  's  his  niece." 

"And  you  've  offered  to  marry  the  gal  three  times,  d'ye 
tell  me,  Zephaniah  ?" 

"  Three  times,  father ;  and  every  time  she  has  given  *  no' 
for  her  answer." 

"  The  fourth  time,  may  be,  she'll  change  her  mind.  I 
wonder  if  we  couldn't  lay  hands  on  this  gal,  and  bring  her 
into  our  settlement?  Does  she  live  with  Chainbearer,  in  his 
hut,  out  here  in  the  woods?" 

"  She  doos,  father." 

"And  doos  she  set  store  by  her  uncle  ?  or  is  she  one  of 
the  flaunty  sort  that  thinks  more  of  herself  and  gownd,  than 
she  does  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood  ?  Can  you  tell  me  that, 
Zeph  ?" 

"  In  my  judgment,  father,  Dus  Malbone  loves  Chainbearer 
as  much  as  she  would,  was  he  her  own  father." 

"Ay,  some  gals  haven't  half  the  riverence  and  love  for 
their  own  fathers  that  they  should  have.  What 's  to  prevint 
your  goin',  Zephaniah,  to  Chainbearer's  pitch,  and  tell  the 
gal  that  her  uncle 's  in  distress,  and  that  you  don't  know 
what  may  happen  to  him,  and  that  she  had  better  come  over 
and  see  a'ter  him  ?  When  we  get  her  here,  and  she  under 
stands  the  natur'  of  the  case,  and  you  put  on  your  Sabba'- 
day  clothes,  and  we  send  for  'squire  Newcome  you  may 
find  yourself  a  married  man  sooner  than  you  thojght  for, 
my  son,  and  settle  down  in  life.  A'ter  that,  there'll  not  be 
much  danger  of  Chainbearer's  tellin'  on  us,  or  of  his  great 
fri'nd  here,  this  major  Littlepage's  troublin'  the  lumber  afore 
the  water  rises." 

A  murmur  of  applause  followed  this  notable  proposal, 
and  I  fancied  I  could  hear  a  snigger  from  the  young  man, 
as  if  he  found  the  project  to  his  mind,  and  thought  it  might 
be  feasible. 

"  Father,"  said  Zephaniah,  "  I  wish  you  'd  call  Lowiny 
nere,  and  talk  to  her  a  little  about  Dus  Malbone.  There 
she  is,  with  Tobit's  wife  and  mother,  looking  round  among 
the  cabbages,  as  if  a  man  could  be  hid  in  such  a  place." 


THE    CH  AINBE  ARER.  319 

Thousandacres  called  to  his  daughter  in  an  authoritative 
way;  and  1  soon  heard  the  girl's  step,  as  she  came,  a  little 
hesitatingly  as  I  fancied,  into  the  mill.  As  it  would  be  very 
natural  to  one  in  Lowiny's  situation  to  suppose,  that  her 
connection  with  my  escape  occasioned  this  summons,  I  could 
not  but  feel  for  what  I  presumed  was  the  poor  girl's  distress 
at  receiving  it. 

"  Come  here,  Lowiny,"  commenced  Thousandacres,  in 
the  stern  manner  with  which  it  was  his  wont  to  speak  to  his 
children;  "come  nearer,  gal.  Do  you  know  anything  of 
one  Dus  Malbone,  Chainbearer's  niece  ?" 

"  Lord  ha'  massy  !  Father,  how  you  did  frighten  me  ! 
I  thought  you  might  have  found  the  gentleman,  and  s'posed 
I  'd  a  hand  in  helpin'  to  hide  him !" 

Singular  as  it  may  seem,  this  burst  of  conscience  awak 
ened  no  suspicion  in  any  of  the  listeners.  When  the  girl 
thus  betrayed  herself,  I  very  naturally  expected  that  such 
an  examination  would  follow  as  would  extort  the  whole  details 
from  her.  Not  at  all,  however ;  neither  the  father  nor  any 
of  the  sons  understood  the  indiscreet  remarks  of  the  girl, 
but  imputed  them  to  the  excitement  that  had  just  existed, 
and  the  circumstance  that  her  mind  had,  naturally  enough, 
been  dwelling  on  its  cause.  It  is  probable  that  the  very 
accidental  manner  of  my  evasion,  which  precluded  the 
attaching  of  suspicious  facts  to  what  had  really  occurred, 
favoured  Lowiny  on  this  occasion ;  it  being  impossible  that 
she  should  be  suspected  from  anything  of  that  character. 

"  Who 's  talkin'  or  thinkin'  now  of  young  Littlepage,  at 
all,"  returned  Thousandacres  a  little  angrily.  "  I  ask  if 
you  know  anything  of  Chainbearer's  niece — one  Dus  Mal 
bone,  or  Malcome?" 

"I  do  know  suthin'  of  her,  father,"  answered  Lowiny, 
willing  enough  to  betray  one — the  lesser — of  her  secrets,  in 
order  to  conceal  the  other,  which,  on  all  accounts,  was  much 
the  most  important ;  "  though  I  never  laid  eyes  on  her  'till 
to-day.  Zeph  has  often  talked  to  me  of  the  gal  that  carried 
chain  with  her  uncle  for  a  whull  month  ;  and  he  has  a  notion 
to  marry  her  if  he  can  get  her." 

"  Never  laid  eyes  on  her  'till  to-day  !  Whereabouts  have 
you  laid  eyes  on  her  to-day,  gal  ?  Is  all  creation  comin'  in 


320  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

upon  my  clearin'  at  once?     Whereabouts  have  you  seen 
this  gal  to-day  1" 

"  She  come  to  the  edge  of  the  clearin'  with  her  uncle, 
and—" 

"  Well,  what  next  ?     Why  don't  you  go  on,  Lowiny  ?" 

I  could  have  told  Thousandacres  why  his  daughter  hesi 
tated  ;  but  the  girl  got  out  of  the  scrape  by  her  own  pre 
sence  of  mind  and  ingenuity,  a  little  aided,  perhaps,  by 
some  practice  in  sins  of  the  sort. 

"Why,  I  went  a  berryin'  this  forenoon,  and  up  ag'in  the 
berry  lot,  just  in  the  edge  of  the  woods,  I  saw  a  young 
woman,  and  that  was  the  Malbone  gal.  So  we  talked  to 
gether,  and  she  told  me  all  about  it.  She 's  waitin'  for  her 
uncle  to  come  back." 

"  So,  so ;  this  is  news  indeed,  b'ys  !  Do  you  know  where 
the  gal  is  now,  Lowiny  ?" 

"  Not  just  now,  for  she  told  me  she  should  go  deeper  into 
the  woods,  lest  she  should  be  seen ;  but  an  hour  afore  sun 
down  she's  to  come  to  the  foot  of  the  great  chestnut,  just 
ag'in  the  berry  lot ;  and  I  promised  to  meet  her,  and  either 
bring  her  in  to  sleep  in  one  of  our  housen,  or  to  carry  her 
out  suthin'  for  supper,  and  to  make  a  bed  on." 

This  was  said  frankly,  and  with  the  feeling  and  sympathy 
that  females  are  apt  to  manifest  in  behalf  of  each  other.  It 
was  evident  Lowiny's  audience  believed  every  word  she  had 
said  ;  and  the  old  man,  in  particular,  determined  at  once  to 
act.  I  heard  him  move  from  his  seat,  and  his  voice  sounded 
like  one  who  was  retiring,  as  he  said : 

"  Tobit — b'ys — come  with  me,  and  we  'II  have  one  more 
look  for  this  young  chap  through  the  lumber  and  the  housen. 
It  may  be  that  he 's  stolen  in  there  while  our  eyes  have  been 
turned  another  way.  Lowiny,  you  needn't  come  with  us, 
for  the  flutterin'  way  of  you  gals  don't  do  no  good  in  sich  a 
s'arch." 

I  waited  until  the  last  heavy  footstep  was  inaudible,  and 
then  ventured  to  move  far  enough  on  my  hands,  to  find  a 
crack  that  I  had  purposely  left,  with  a  view  to  take  through 
it  an  occasional  look  below.  On  the  log  which  her  father 
had  just  left,  Lowiny  had  seated  herself.  Her  eye  was 
roaming  over  the  upper  part  of  the  mill,  as  if  in  quest  of 
roe.  At  length  she  said,  in  a  suppressed  voice, — 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  321 

" Be  you  here,  still?  Father  and  the  b'ys  can't  hear  us 
now,  if  you  speak  low." 

"  I  am  here,  good  Lowiny,  thanks  to  your  friendly  kind 
ness,  and  have  overheard  all  that  passed.  You  saw  Ursula 
Malbone,  and  gave  her  my  note  T 

"  As  true  as  you  are  there,  I  did ;  and  she  read  it  over 
so  often,  I  guess  she  must  know  it  by  heart." 

"  But,  what  did  she  say  1  Had  she  no  message  for  her 
uncle — no  answer  to  what  I  had  written  ?" 

"  Oh  !  she  'd  enough  to  say — gals  love  to  talk,  you  know, 
when  they  get  with  one  another,  and  Dus  and  I  talked  to 
gether  half  an  hour,  or  longer.  She'd  plenty  to  say, 
though  it  wunt  do  for  me  to  sit  here  and  tell  it  to  you,  lest 
somebody  wonder  I  stay  so  long  in  the  mill." 

"  You  can  tell  me  if  she  sent  any  message,  or  answer  to 
my  note?" 

"  She  never  breathed  a  syllable  about  what  you  'd  writ. 
I  warrant  you  she  's  close-mouthed  enough,  when  she  gets 
a  line  from  a  young  man.  Do  you  think  her  so  desp'rate 
handsome  as  Zeph  says  she  is  ?" 

This  boded  ill,  but  it  was  a  question  that  it  was  politic  to 
answer,  and  to  answer  with  some  little  discretion.  If  I  lost 
the  services  of  Lowiny,  my  main  stay  was  gone. 

"  She  is  well  enough  to  look  at,  but  I  've  seen  quite  as 
handsome  young  women,  lately.  But  handsome  or  not, 
she  is  one  of  your  own  sex,  and  is  not  to  be  deserted  in  her 
trouble." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Lowiny,  with  an  expression  of 
countenance  that  told  me  at  once,  the  better  feelings  of  her 
sex  had  all  returned  again,  "  and  I'll  not  desart  her,  though 
father  drive  me  out  of  the  settlement.  I  am  tired  of  all  this 
squatting,  and  think  folks  ought  to  live  as  much  in  one  spot 
as  they  can.  What 's  best  to  be  done  about  Dus  Malbone 
— perhaps  she  'd  like  well  enough  to  marry  Zeph  ?" 

"  Did  you  see,  or  hear,  any  thing  while  with  her,  to 
make  you  think  so?  I  am  anxious  to  know  what  she 
said." 

"  La !  She  said  sights  of  things  ;  but  most  of  her  talk 
was  about  old  Chainbearer.  She  never  named  your  name 
so  much  as  once !" 

"Did  she  name  Zephaniah's?    I  make  no  doubt  that 


322  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

anxiety  on  account  of  her  uncle  was  her  chief  care.  What 
are  her  intentions,  and  will  she  remain  near  that  tree  until 
you  come  ?" 

"  She  stays  under  a  rock  not  a  great  way  from  the  tree, 
and  there  she'll  stay  till  I  go  to  meet  her,  at  the  chestnut. 
We  had  our  talk  under  that  rock,  and  it 's  easy  enough  to 
find. her  there." 

"  How  do  things  look,  aflround  us  ?  Might  I  descend,  slip 
down  into  the  bed  of  the  river,  and  go  round  to  Dus  Mai- 
bone,  so  as  to  give  her  notice  of  the  danger  she  is  in  ?" 

Lowiny  did  not  answer  me  for  near  a  minute,  and  I 
began  to  fear  that  I  had  put  another  indiscreet  question. 
The  girl  seemed  thoughtful,  but  when  she  raised  her  face 
so  high  as  to  allow  me  to  see  it,  all  the  expression  of  the 
more  generous  feminine  sympathy  was  visible. 

"  5T  would  be  hard  to  make  Dus  have  Zeph,  if  she  don't 
like  him,  wouldn't  it !"  she  said  with  emphasis.  "  I  don't 
know  but  t'would  be  better  to  let  her  know  what's  coming, 
so  that  she  can  choose  for  herself." 

"  She  told  me,"  I  answered,  with  perfect  truth,  "  that  she 
is  engaged  to  another,  and  it  would  be  worse  than  cruel — 
it  would  be  wicked,  to  make  her  marry  one  man,  while  she 
loves  another." 

"  She  shan't  do 't !"  cried  the  girl,  with  an  animation 
that  I  thought  dangerous.  But  she  gave  me  no  opportunity 
for  remonstrance,  as,  all  her  energies  being  aroused,  she 
went  to  work  in  earnest  to  put  me  in  the  way  of  doing 
what  I  most  desired  to  achieve. 

"  D'ye  see  the  lower  corner  of  the  mill,"  she  continued, 
hurriedly.  "  That  post  goes  down  to  the  rock  over  which 
the  water  falls.  You  can  walk  to  that  corner  without  any 
danger  of  being  seen,  as  the  ruff  hides  you,  and  when  you 
get  there,  you  can  wait  till  I  tell  you  to  get  on  the  post. 
'Twill  be  easy  to  slide  down  that  post  to  the  rock,  and 
there'll  be  not  much  of  a  chance  of  being  seen,  as  the  post 
will  nearly  hide  you.  When  you  're  on  the  rock,  you  '11 
find  a  path  that  leads  along  the  creek  till  you  come  to  a 
foot-bridge.  If  you  cross  that  log,  and  take  the  left-hand 
path,  'twill  bring  you  out  near  the  edge  of  the  clearin',  up 
on  the  hill  again,  and  then  you  '11  have  only  to  follow  the 
edge  of  the  woods  a  little  way,  afore  you  come  to  the 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  323 

The  rock  is  right  off,  ag'in  the  chestnut,  only 
about  fifty  rods." 

I  took  in  these  directions  eagerly,  and  was  at  the  post 
almost  as  soon  as  the  girl  ceased  speaking.  In  order  to  do 
this  I  had  only  to  walk  on  the  boards  that  lay  scattered 
about  on  the  girts  of  the  mill,  the  roof  completely  conceal 
ing  the  movement  from  any  on  its  outside.  I  made  my  ar 
rangements,  and  only  waited  for  a  signal,  or  the  direction 
from  Lowiny,  to  proceed. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  girl,  looking  down  and  affecting  to 
be  occupied  with  something  near  her  feet.  "  Father  and 
Tobit  are  walkin'  this  way,  and  lookin'  right  at  the  mill. 
Now — get  ready — they  've  turned  their  heads,  and  seem  as 
if  they  'd  turn  round  themselves  next.  They  've  turned 
away  ag'in  ;  wait  one  moment — now  's  a  good  time — don't 
go  away  altogether  without  my  seein'  you  once  more." 

I  heard  these  last  words,  but  it  was  while  sliding  down 
the  post.  Just  as  my  head  came  so  low  as  to  be  in  a  line 
with  the  objects  scattered  about  the  floor  of  the  mill,  I  clung 
to  the  post  to  catch  one  glimpse  of  what  was  going  on  with 
out.  Thousandacres  and  Tobit  were  about  a  hundred  yards 
distant,  walking  apart  from  the  group  of  young  men,  and 
apparently  in  deep  consultation  together.  It  was  quite  evi 
dent  no  alarm  was  taken,  and  down  I  slid  to  the  rock.  At 
the  next  moment  I  was  in  the  path,  descending  to  the  foot 
bridge,  a  tree  that  had  been  felled  across  the  stream.  Until 
that  tree  was  crossed,  and  a  slight  distance  of  the  ascent  on 
the  other  side  of  the  stream,  along  the  left-hand  path,  was 
overcome,  I  was  completely  exposed  lo  the  observation  of 
any  one  who  might  be  in  a  situation  to  look  down  into  the 
glen  of  the  river.  At  almost  any  other  moment,  at  that  par 
ticular  season,  my  discovery  would  have  been  nearly  cer 
tain,  as  some  of  the  men  or  boys  were  always  at  work  in 
the  water ;  but  the  events  of  that  morning  called  them  else 
where,  and  I  made  the  critical  passage,  a  distance  of  two 
hundred  yards,  or  more,  in  safety.  As  soon*  as  I  entered 
behind  a  cover,  my  speed  abated,  and,  having  risen  again 
to  the  level  of  the  dwellings,  or  even  a  little  above  them,  I 
profited  by  openings  among  the  small  pine  bushes  that 
fringed  the  path,  to  take  a  survey  of  the  state  of  things 
among  the  squatters. 


324  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

There  the  cluster  of  heavy,  lounging  young  me*i 
Thousandacres  and  Tobit  walking  apart,  as  when  last  seen. 
Prudence  was  at  the  door  of  a  distant  cabin,  surrounded,  as 
usual,  by  a  collection  of  the  young  fry,  and  conversing  her 
self,  eagerly,  with  the  wives  of  two  or  three  of  her  married 
sons.  Lowiny  had  left  the  mill,  and  was  strolling  along 
the  opposite  side  of  the  glen,  so  near  the  verge  of  the  rocks 
as  to  have  enabled  her  to  see  the  whole  of  my  passage 
across  the  open  space.  Perceiving  that  she  was  quite  alone, 
I  ventured  to  hem  just  loud  enough  to  reach  her  ear.  A 
hurried,  frightened  gesture,  assured  me  that  I  had  been 
heard,  and,  first  making  a  gesture  for  me  to  go  forward,  the 
girl  turned  away,  and  went  skipping  off  towards  the  cluster 
of  females  who  surrounded  her  mother. 

As  for  myself,  I  now  thought  only  of  Dus.  What  cared 
I  if  she  did  love  another?  A  girl  of  her  education,  man 
ners,  sentiments,  birth  and  character,  was  not  to  be  sacri 
ficed  to  one  like  Zephaniah,  let  what  might  happen ;  and, 
could  I  reach  her  place  of  concealment  in  time,  she  might 
still  be  saved.  These  thoughts  fairly  winged  my  flight,  and 
I  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  chestnut.  Three  minutes  later 
I  laid  a  hand  on  the  trunk  of  the  tree  itself.  As  1  had  been 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  at  least,  in  making  the  circuit  of  that 
side  of  the  clearing,  some  material  change  might  have  oc 
curred  among  the  squatters,  and  I  determined  to  advance  to 
the  edge  of  the  bushes,  in  Lowiny's  "  berry  lot,"  which 
completely  screened  the  spot,  and  ascertain  the  facts,  before 
I  sought  Dus  at  her  rock. 

The  result  showed  that  some  measures  had  been  decided 
on  between  Thousandacres  and  Tobit.  Not  one  of  the 
males,  a,lad  that  stood  sentinel  at  the  store-house,  and  a 
few  of  the  smaller  boys  excepted,  was  to  be  seen.  I  ex 
amined  all  the  visible  points  with  care,  but  no  one  was  visi 
ble.  Even  Susquesus,  who  had  been  lounging  about  the 
whole  day,  or  since  his  liberation,  had  vanished.  Prudence 
and  her  daughters,  too,  were  in  a  great  commotion,  hurry 
ing  from  cabin  to  cabin,  and  manifesting  all  that  restlessness 
which  usually  denotes  excitement  among  females.  I  stopped 
but  a  moment  to  ascertain  these  leading  circumstances,  and 
turned  to  seek  the  rock.  While  retiring  from  among  the 
bushes,  I  heard  the  fallen  branch  of  a  tree  snap  under  a 


THE    CHAINBEARER. 

heavy  footstep,  and  looking  cautiously  around,  saw  Jaaf,  or 
Jaap  as  we  commonly  called  him,  advancing  towards  me,. 
carrying  a  rifle  on  each  shoulder. 

"  Heaven's  blessings  on  you,  my  faithful  Jaap  !"  I  cried, 
holding  out  an  arm  to  receive  one  of  the  weapons.  "  You 
come  at  a  most  happy  moment,  and  can  lead  me  to  Miss 
Malbone." 

"  Yes,  sah,  and  glad  to  do  it,  too.  Miss  Dus  up  here,  a 
bit,  in  'e  wood,  and  can  werry  soon  see  her.  She  keep  me 
down  here  to  look  out,  and  I  carry  bot'  rifle,  Masser  Chain- 
bearer's  and  my  own,  'cause  Miss  Dus  no  great  hand  wid 
gun-powder.  But,  where  you  cum  from,  Masser  Mor- 
daunt? — and  why  you  run  away  so,  in  night-time?" 

"  Never  mind  just  now,  Jaap — in  proper  time  you  shall 
know  all  about  it.  Now,  we  must  take  care  of  Miss  Ursula. 
Is  she  uneasy?  has  she  shown  any  fear  on  her  uncle's 
account?" 

"  She  cry  half  'e  time,  sah — Den  she  look  up  bold,  and 
resolute,  just  like  ole  Masser,  sah,  when  he  tell  he  rijjement 
*  charge  baggonet,'  and  seem  as  if  she  want  to  go  right  into 
T'ousandacres'  huts.  Lor'  bless  me,  sah,  Masser  Mordaunt 
— if  she  ask  me  one  question  about  you  to-day,  she  ask  me 
a  hundred!" 

"About  me,  Jaap !" — But  I  arrested  the  impulsive  feeling 
in  good  time,  so  as  not  to  be  guilty  of  pumping  my  own 
servant  concerning  what  others  had  said  of  me ;  a  mean 
ness  I  could  not  easily  have  pardoned  in  myself.  But  I 
increased  my  speed,  and,  having  Jaap  for  my  guide,  was 
soon  at  the  side  of  Dus.  The  negro  had  no  sooner  pointed 
out  to  me  the  object  of  my  search,  than  he  had  the  discre 
tion  to  return  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  carrying  with 
him  both  rifles ;  for  I  returned  to  him  the  one  I  had  taken, 
in  my  eagerness  to  hurry  forward,  the  instant  I  beheld 
Dus. 

I  can  never  forget  the  look  with  which  that  frank,  noble- 
hearted  girl  received  me !  It  almost  led  me  to  hope  that  my 
ears  had  deceived  me,  and  that,  after  all,  I  was  an  object 
of  the  highest  interest  with  her.  A  few  tears,  half-sup 
pressed,  but  suppressed  with  difficulty,  accompanied  that 
look ;  and  I  had  the  happiness  of  holding  for  some  time 
28 


326  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

and  of  pressing  to  my  heart,  that  little  hand  that  was  freely 
— nay,  warmly  extended  to  me. 

"  Let  us  quit  this  spot  at  once,  dearest  Ursula,"  I  cried, 
the  moment  I  could  speak.  "  It  is  not  safe  to  remain  near 
that  family  of  wretches,  who  live  by  depredation  and  vio 
lence." 

"And  leave  uncle  Chainbearer  in  their  hands  !"  answered 
Dus,  reproachfu-lly.  "  Fow,  surely,  would  not  advise  me  to 
do  that !" 

"  If  your  own  safety  demands  it,  yes — a  thousand  times, 
yes.  We  must  fly,  and  there  is  not  a  moment  to  lose.  A 
design  exists  among  those  wretches  to  seize  you,  and  to 
make  use  of  your  fears  to  secure  the  aid  of  your  uncle  in 
extricating  them  from  the  consequences  of  this  discovery 
of  their  robberies.  It  is  not  safe,  I  repeat,  for  you  to  re 
main  a  minute  longer  here." 

The  smile  that  Dus  now  bestowed  on  me  was  very  sweet, 
though  I  found  it  inexplicable ;  for  it  had  as  much  of  pain 
and  suffering  in  it,  as  it  had  of  that  which  was  winning. 

"  Mordaunt  Littlepage,  have  you  forgotten  the  words 
spoken  by  me  when  we  last  parted  ?"  she  asked,  seriously. 

"  Forgotten  !  I  can  never  forget  them  !  They  drove  me 
nearly  to  despair,  and  were  the  cause  of  bringing  us  all 
into  this  difficulty." 

"  I  told  you  that  my  faith  was  already  plighted — that  I 
could  not  accept  your  noble,  frank,  generous,  manly  offer, 
because  another  had  my  troth." 

"  You  did — you  did — Why  renew  my  misery — " 

"  It  is  with  a  different  object  that  I  am  now  more  explicit 
—That  man  to  whom  I  am  pledged  is  in  those  huts,  and  I 
cannot  desert  him." 

"  Can  I  believe  my  senses !  Do  you — can  you — is  it 
possible  that  one  like  Ursula  Malbone  can  love  Zephaniah 
Thousandacres  —  a  squatter  himself,  and  the  son  of  a 
squatter  ?" 

The  look  with  which  Dus  regarded  me,  said  at  once  that 
her  astonishment  was  quite  as  great  as  my  own.  I  could 
have  bitten  off  my  hasty  and  indiscreet  tongue,  the  instant 
it  had  spoken  ;  and  I  am  sure  the  rush  of  tell-tale  blood  in 
my  face  must  have  proclaimed  to  my  companion  that  I  felt 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  327 

most  thoroughly  ashamed  of  myself.  This  feeling  was 
deepened  nearly  to  despair,  when  I  saw  the  expression  of 
abased  mortification  that  came  over  the  sweet  and  usually 
happy  countenance  of  Dus,  and  the  difficulty  she  had  in 
suppressing  her  tears. 

Neither  spoke  for  a  minute,  when  my  companion  broke 
silence  by  saying  steadily — I  might  almost  add  solemnly— 

"  This,  indeed,  shows  how  low  my  fortune  has  become ! 
But  I  pardon  you,  Mordaunt ;  for,  humble  as  that  fortune 
is,  you  have  spoken  nobly  and  frankly  in  my  behalf,  and  I 
exonerate  you  from  any  feeling  that  is  not  perfectly  natural 
for  the  circumstances.  Perhaps" — and  a  bright  blush  suf 
fused  the  countenance  of  Dus  as  she  said  it — "  Perhaps  I 
may  attribute  the  great  mistake  into  which  you  have  fallen 
to  a  passion  that  is  most  apt  to  accompany  strong  love,  and 
insomuch  prize  it,  instead  of  throwing  it  away  with  con 
tempt.  But,  between  you  and  me,  whatever  comes  of  it, 
there  must  be  no  more  mistakes.  The  man  to  whom  my 
faith  is  plighted,  and  to  whom  my  time  and  services  are 
devoted,  so  long  as  one  or  both  of  us  live,  is  uncle  Chain- 
bearer,  and  no  other.  Had  you  not  rushed  from  me  in  the 
manner  you  did,  I  might  have  told  you  this,  Mordaunt,  the 
evening  you  were  showing  so  much  noble  frankness  your 
self." 

"  Dus !— Ursula ! — beloved  Miss  Malbone,  have  I  then  no 
preferred  rival?" 

"  No  man  has  ever  spoken  to  me  of  love,  but  this  uncouth 
and  rude  young  squatter,  and  yourself." 

"  Is  your  heart  then  untouched  ?  Are  you  still  mistress 
of  your  own  affections  ?" 

The  look  I  now  received  from  Dus  was  a  little  saucy ; 
but  that  expression  soon  changed  to  one  that  had  more  of 
the  deep  feeling  and  generous  sympathy  of  her  precious  sex 
in  it. 

"  Were  I  to  answer  *  yes,'  many  women  would  think  I 
was  being  no  more  than  true  to  the  rights  of  a  girl  who  has 
been  so  unceremoniously  treated  ;  but " 

"  But  what,  charming,  most  beloved  Ursula  ?    But  what  ?' 

"  I  prefer  truth  to  coquetry,  and  shall  not  attempt  to  deny 
what  it  would  almost  be  treason  against  nature  to  suppose. 
How  could  a  girl,  educated  as  I  have  been,  without  any 


328  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

preference  to  tie  her  to  another,  be  shut  up  in  this  forest 
with  a  man  who  has  treated  her  with  so  much  kindness  and 
devotion,  and  manly  tenderness,  and  insensible  to  his  merits  ? 
Were  we  in  the  world,  Mordaunt,  I  think  I  should  prefer 
you  to  all  others ;  being,  as  we  are,  in  this  forest,  I  know  I 
do." 

The  reader  shall  not  be  let  into  the  sacred  confidence  that 
followed;  any  further,  at  least,  than  to  know  the  main 
result.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  so  swiftly,  and  so 
sweetly,  indeed,  that  I  could  hardly  take  it  on  myself  to 
record  one-half  that  was  said.  Dus  made  no  longer  any 
hesitation  in  declaring  her  attachment  for  me ;  and,  though 
she  urged  her  own  poverty  as  a  just  obstacle  to  my  wishes, 
it  was  faintly,  as  most  Americans  of  either  sex  would  do. 
In  this  particular,  at  least,  we  may  fairly  boast  of  a  just 
superiority  over  all  the  countries  of  the  old  world.  While 
it  is  scarcely  possible  that  either  man  or  woman  should  not 
see  how  grave  a  barrier  to  wedded  happiness  is  interposed 
by  the  opinions  and  habits  of  social  castes,  it  is  seldom  that 
any  one,  in  his  or  her  own  proper  sphere,  feels  that  the 
want  of  money  is  an  insurmountable  obstacle  to  a  union — 
more  especially  when  one  of  the  parties  is  provided  with  the 
means  of  maintaining  the  household  gods.  The  seniors 
may,  and  do  often  have  scruples  on  this  score;  but  the 
young  people  rarely.  Dus  and  myself  were  in  the  com 
plete  enjoyment  of  this  happy  simplicity,  with  my  arms 
around  her  waist,  and  her  head  leaning  on  my  shoulder, 
when  I  was  aroused  from  a  state  that  I  fancied  Elysium,  by 
the  hoarse,  raven-throated  cry  of — 

"  Here  she  is !  Here  she  is,  father  !  Here  they  are 
both!" 

On  springing  forward  to  face  the  intruders,  I  saw  Tobit 
and  Zephaniah  directly  before  me,  with  Lowiny  standing  at 
no  great  distance  behind  them.  The  first  looked  ferocious, 
the  second  jealous  and  angry,  the  third  abashed  and  morti 
fied.  In  another  minute  we  were  surrounded  by  Thousand- 
acres,  and  all  the  males  of  his  brood. 


THE    CHAINBEABBB 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

M  My  love  is  young— but  other  loves  are  young ; 
And  other  loves  are  fair,  and  so  is  mine ; 
An  air  divine  discloses  whence  he  sprung ; 
He  is  my  love  who  boasts  that  air  divine." 

SHENSTONE. 

A  MORE  rude  and  violent  interruption  of  a  scene  in  which 
the  more  gentle  qualities  love  to  show  themselves,  never  oc 
curred.  I,  who  knew  the  whole  of  the  past,  saw  at  once 
that  we  had  very  serious  prospects  before  us;  but  Dus  at 
first  felt  only  the  consciousness  and  embarrassment  of  a 
woman,  who  has  betrayed  her  most  sacred  secret  to  vulgar 
eyes.  That  very  passion,  which  a  month  later,  and  after 
the  exchange  of  the  marriage  vows,  it  would  have  been  her 
glory  to  exhibit  in  face  of  the  whole  community,  on  the  oc 
currence  of  any  event  of  moment  to  myself,  she  now  shrunk 
from  revealing;  and  I  do  believe  that  maiden  bashfulness 
gave  her  more  pain,  when  thus  arrested,  than  any  other 
cause.  As  for  the  'squatters,  she  probably  had  no  very  clear 
conceptions  of  their  true  characters ;  and  it  was  one  of  her 
liveliest  wishes  to  be  able  to  join  her  uncle.  But,  Thousand- 
acres  soon  gave  us  both  cause  to  comprehend  how  much  he 
was  now  in  earnest. 

"  So,  my  young  major,  you  're  catched  in  the  same  nest, 
be  you  !  You  Ve  your  ch'ise  to  walk  peaceably  back  where 
you  belong,  or  to  be  tied  and  carried  there  like  a  buck  that 
has  been  killed  a  little  out  in  the  woods.  You  never  know'd 
Thousandacres  and  his  race,  if  you  raally  thought  to  slip 
away  from  him,  and  that  with  twenty  miles  of  woods  around 
you  !» 

I  intimated  a  wish  not  to  be  tied,  and  professed  a  perfect 
willingness  to  accompany  my  captors  back  to  their  dwellings; 
for,  nothing  would  have  tempted  me  to  desert  Dus,  under 
the  circumstances.  The  squatters  might  have  declared  the 
road  open  to  me,  but  the  needle  does  not  point  more  imerr- 
28* 


330  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

ingly  to  the  pole  than  I  should  have  followed  my  magnet, 
though  at  liberty. 

Little  more  was  said  until  we  had  quitted  the  woods,  and 
had  reached  the  open  fields  of  the  clearing.  I  was  permitted 
to  assist  my  companion  through  the  bushes,  and  in  climbing 
a  fence  or  two ;  the  squatters,  who  were  armed  to  a  man, 
forming  a  circle  around  us,  at  a  distance  that  enabled  me  to 
whisper  a  few  words  to  Dus,  in  the  way  of  encouragement. 
She  had  great  natural  intrepidity  for  a  woman,  and  I  be 
lieve  I  ought  to  escape  the  imputation  of  vanity,  if  I  add 
that  we  both  felt  so  happy  at  the  explanations  which  had  so 
lately  been  had,  that  this  new  calamity  could  not  entirely 
depress  us,  so  long  as  we  were  not  separated. 

"  Be  not  downhearted,  dearest  Dus,"  I  whispered,  as  wo 
approached  the  store-house  ;  "  after  all,  these  wretches  will 
not  dare  to  transgress  against  the  law,  very  far." 

"  I  have  few  fears,  with  you  and  uncle  Chainbearer  so 
near  me,  Mordaunt,"  was  her  smiling  answer.  "  It  cannot 
be  long  before  we  hear  from  Frank,  who  is  gone,  as  you 
must  have  been  told,  to  Ravensnest,  for  authority  and  assist 
ance.  He  left  our  huts  at  the  same  time  we,  left  them  to 
come  here,  and  must  be  on  his  return  long  before  this." 

I  squeezed  the  hand  of  the  dear  girl,  receiving  a  gentle 
pressure  in  return,  and  prepared  myself  to  be  separated 
from  her,  as  I  took  it  for  granted  that  Prudence  and  her 
daughters  would  hold  watch  and  ward  over  the  female  pri 
soner.  I  had  hesitated,  ever  since  quitting  the  woods,  about 
giving  her  notice  of  the  trial  that  probably  awaited  her ;  but, 
as  no  attempt  to  coerce  a  marriage  could  be  made  until  the 
magistrate  arrived,  I  thought  it  would  be  rendering  her  un 
necessarily  unhappy.  The  trial,  if  it  did  come  at  all,  would 
come  soon  enough  of  itself;  and  I  had  no  apprehension  that 
one  of  Dus's  spirit  and  character,  and  who  had  so  recently 
and  frankly  admitted  that  her  whole  heart  was  mine,  could 
be  frightened  into  a  concession  that  would  give  Zephaniah 
any  claim  to  her.  To  own  the  truth,  a  mountain  had  been 
removed  from  my  own  breast,  and  I^was  too  happy  on  this 
particular  account,  to  be  rendered  very  miserable  on  any 
other,  just  a*:  that  time.  I  do  believe  Dus  was  a  little  sus 
tained  by  some  similar  sentiment. 

Dus  and  I  parted  at  the  door  of  the  first  house,  she  being 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  331 

transferred  to  the  keeping  of  Tobit's  wife,  a  woman  who 
was  well  bestowed  on  her  brutal  and  selfish  husband.  No 
violence  was  used,  however,  towards  the  prisoner,  who  was 
permitted  to  go  at  large ;  though  I  observed  that  one  or  two 
of  the  females  attached  themselves  to  her  person  imme 
diately,  no  doubt  as  her  keepers. 

In  consequence  of  our  having  approached  the  dwelling  of 
the  squatters  by  a  new  path,  Chainbearer  knew  nothing  of 
the  arrest  of  his  niece,  until  the  fact  was  communicated  by 
me.  He  was  not  even  aware  of  my  being  retaken,  until  he 
saw  me  about  to  enter  the  prison  again  ;  though  he  probably 
anticipated  that  such  might  be  my  fate.  As  for  Susquesus, 
he  seldom  manifested  surprise  or  emotion  of  any  sort,  let 
what  would  occur. 

"  Well,  Mortaunt,  my  lat,  I  knowet  you  had  vanishet,  py 
hook  or  py  crook,  ant  nopoty  knowet  how ;  put  I  t'ought 
you  woult  fint  it  hart  to  t'row  t'ese  rascally  squatters  off 
your  trail,"  cried  Andries,  giving  me  a  hearty  shake  of  the 
hand  as  I  entered  the  prison.  "  Here  we  are,  all  free  of 
us,  ag'in ;  ant  it 's  lucky  we  're  such  goot  frients,  as  our 
quarters  are  none  of  t'e  largest  or  pest.  The  Injin  fount  I 
was  alone,  so  he  took  pack  his  parole,  ant  ist  a  close  pri 
soner  like  t'e  rest  of  us,  put  in  one  sense  a  free  man.  You 
can  tig  up  t'e  hatchet  ag'in  t'ese  squatters  whenever  you 
please  now;  is  it  not  so,  Sureflint?" 

"  Sartain — truce  done — Susquesus  prisoner  like  every 
body.  Give  T'ousandacres  p'role  back  ag'in  —  Injin  free 
man,  now." 

I  understood  the  Onondago's  meaning  well  enough,  though 
his  freedom  was  of  a  somewhat  questionable  character.  He 
merely  wished  to  say  that,  having  given  himself  up  to  the 
squatters,  he  was  released  from  the  conditions  of  his  parole, 
and  was  at  liberty  to  make  his  escape,  or  to  wage  war  on  his 
captors  in  any  manner  he  saw  fit.  Luckily  Jaap  had  es 
caped,  for  I  could  see  no  signs  of  even  his  presence  being 
known  to  Thousandacres  or  to  his  sons.  It  was  something 
to  have  so  practised  a  woodsman  and  so  true  a  friend  still 
at  large,  and  near  us;  and  the  information  he  could  impart, 
should  he  fall  in  with  Frank  Malbone,  with  the  constable  and 
the  posse,  might  be  of  the  utmost  service  to  us.  All  these 
points  Chainbearer  and  I  discussed  at  large,  the  Indian  sit- 


332  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

ting  by,  an  attentive  but  a  silent  listener.  It  was  our  joint 
opinion  that  Malbone  could  not  now  be  verv  far  distant  with 
succour.  What  would  be  the  effect  of  an  attack  on  the 
squatters  it  was  not  easy  to  predict,  since  the  last  might 
make  battle ;  and,  small  as  was  their  force,  it  would  be  likely 
to  prove  very  available  in  a  struggle  of  that  nature.  The 
females  of  such  a  family  were  little  less  efficient  than  the 
males,  when  posted  behind  logs ;  and  there  were  a  hundred 
things  in  which  their  habits,  experience,  and  boldness  might 
be  made  to  tell,  should  matters  be  pushed  to  extremities. 

"  Got  knows — Got  only  knows,  Mortaunt,  what  will  come 
of  it  all,"  rejoined  Chainbearer  to  one  of  my  remarks,  puff 
ing  coolly  at  his  pipe  at  intervals,  in  order  to  secure  the  fire 
he  had  just  applied  to  it.  "  Nut'in  is  more  unsartain  t'an 
war,  as  Sus,  here,  fery  well  knows  py  long  experience,  ant 
as  you  ought  to  know  yourself,  my  poy,  hafin  seen  sarfice, 
ant  warm  sarfice,  too.  Shoult  Frank  Malpone  make  a 
charge  on  t'is  settlement,  as,  pein  an  olt  soltier,  he  will  pe 
fery  likely  to  do,  we  must  make  efery  effort  to  fall  in  on  one 
of  his  flanks,  in  orter  to  cover  t'e  atvance  or  t'e  retreat,  as 
may  happen  to  pe  t'e  movement  at  t'e  time." 

"  I  trust  it  will  be  the  advance,  as  Malbone  does  not  strike 
me  as  a  man  likely  to  retreat  very  easily.  But,  are  we 
certain  'Squire  Newcome  will  grant  the  warrant  he  will  ask 
for,  being  in  such  close  communion  himself  with  these 
squatters  ?" 

"  I  haf  t'ought  of  all  t'at,  too,  Mortaunt,  ant  t'ere  is  goot 
sense  in  it.  I  t'ink  he  will  at  least  sent  wort  to  T'ousant- 
acres,  to  let  him  know  what  is  comin',  ant  make  as  many 
telays  as  possiple.  T'e  law  is  a  lazy  sarfant  when  it  wishes 
to  pe  slow ;  ant  many  is  t'e  rogue  t'at  hast  outrun  it,  when 
t'e  race  hast  peen  to  safe  a  pack  or  a  fine.  Nefert'eless, 
Mortaunt,  t'e  man  who  is  right  fights  wit'  great  otts  in  his 
fafor,  ant  is  fery  apt  to  come  out  pest  in  t'e  long  run.  It  is 
a  great  atvantage  to  pe  always  right ;  a  trut'  I  've  known 
ant  felt  from  poyhoot,  put  which  hast  peen  mate  more  ant 
more  clear  to  me  since  t'e  peace,  ant  I  haf  come  pack  to  lif 
wit'  Dus.  T'at  gal  hast  teachet  me  much  on  all  such  mat 
ters  ;  ant  it  woult  do  your  heart  goot  to  see  her  alone  wit' 
an  olt  ignorant  man  in  t'e  woots,  of  a  Suntay,  a  tryin'  to 
teach  him  his  piple,  ant  how  he  ought  to  lofe  ant  fear  Got !" 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  333 

"  Does  Dus  do  this  for  you,  my  old  friend  ? — Does  that 
admirable  creature  really  take  on  herself  this  solemn  office 
of  duty  and  love !  Much  as  I  admired  and  esteemed  her 
before,  for  her  reverence  and  affection  for  you,  Chainbearer, 
I  now  admire  and  esteem  her  the  more,  for  this  proof  of  her 
most  true  and  deep-seated  interest  in  your  welfare." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what,  poy — Dus  is  petter  ast  twenty  tomi- 
nies  to  call  a  stupporn  olt  fellow,  fat  has  got  a  conscience 
toughenet  ant  hartenet  by  lifin'  t'reescore  years  ant  ten  in 
t'e  worlt,  pack  from  his  wicketness  into  t'e  ways  of  gotliness 
and  peace.  You  're  young,  Mortaunt,  and  haf  not  yet  got 
out  of  t'e  gristle  of  sin  into  t'e  pone,  ant  can  hartly  know 
how  strong  ist  t'e  holt  t'at  hapit  and  t'e  worlt  gets  of  an  olt 
man ;  put  I  hope  you  may  lif  long  enough  to  see  it  all,  ant 
to  feel  it  all."  I  did  not  even  srnile,  for  the  child-like 
earnestness,  and  the  sincere  simplicity  with  which  Andries 
delivered  himself  of  this  wish,  concealed  its  absurdity  be 
hind  a  veil  of  truth  and  feeling  too  respectable  to  admit  of  a 
single  disrespectful  impulse. — "  Ant  t'at  is  t'e  worst  wish  I 
can  wish  you,  my  tear  poy.  You  know  how  it  hast  peen 
wit'  me,  Mortaunt ;  a  chainpearer's  callin'  is  none  of  t'e  pest 
to  teach  religion ;  which  toes  not  seem  to  flourish  in  t'e 
woots ;  t'ough  why  I  cannot  tell ;  since,  as  Dus  has  ag'in 
ant  ag'in  shown  to  me,  Got  is  in  t'e  trees,  ant  on  t'e  moun 
tains,  ant  along  t'e  valleys,  ant  is  to  pe  hearet  in  t'e  prooks 
ant  t'e  rifers,  as  much  if  not  more  t'an  he  ist  to  pe  hearet 
ant  seen  in  t'e  clearin's  ant  t'e  towns.  Put  my  life  was  not 
a  religious  life  afore  t'e  war,  ant  war  is  not  a  pusiness  to 
make  a  man  t'ink  of  deat'  as  he  ought ;  t'ough  he  hast  it 
tay  and  night,  as  it  might  pe,  afore  his  eyes." 

"  And  Dus,  the  excellent,  frank,  buoyant,  sincere,  wo 
manly  and  charming  Dus,  adds  these  admirable  qualities  to 
other  merits,  does  she !  I  knew  she  had  a  profound  senti 
ment  on  the  subject  of  religion,  Chainbearer,  though  I  did 
not  know  she  took  so  very  lively  an  interest  in  the  welfare 
of  those  she  loves,  in  connection  with  that  all-important 
interest." 

"  You  may  well  call  t'e  gal  py  all  t'em  fine  worts,  Mor 
taunt,  for  she  desarfs  efery  one  of  t'em,  ant  more  too.  No 
— no — Dus  isn't  known  in  a  tay.  A  poty  may  lif  in  t'e 
same  house  wit'  her,  ant  see  her  smilin'  face,  ant  hear  her 


334  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

merry  song,  mont's  ant  mont's,  ant  not  1'arn  all  t'at  t'ere  ist 
of  gotliness,  ant  meekness,  ant  virtue,  ant  love,  ant  piety,  in 
t'e  pottom  of  her  soul.  One  tay  you '11  t'ink  well  of  bus, 
Mortaunt  Littlepa^e." 

"  I !— Tell  me  That  I  shall  think  well  of  Ursula  Malbone, 
the  girl  that  I  almost  worship  !— -Think  well  of  her  whom  I 
now  love  with  an  intensity  that  I  did  not  imagine  was  pos 
sible,  three  months  since ! — Think  well  of  her  who  fills  all 
my  waking,  and  not  a  few  of  my  sleeping  thoughts — of 
whom  I  dream — to  whom  I  am  betrothed — who  has  heard 
my  vows  with  favour,  and  has  cheerfully  promised,  all 
parties  that  are  interested  consenting,  to  become  at  some 
early  day  my  wife  /" 

Old  Andries  heard  my  energetic  exclamation  with  aston 
ishment  ;  and  even  the  Indian  turned  his  head  to  look  on 
me  with  a  gratified  attention.  Perceiving  that  I  had  gone  so 
far,  under  an  impulse  I  had  found  irresistible,  I  felt  the  ne 
cessity  of  being  still  more  explicit,  and  of  communicating  all 
I  had  to  say  on  the  subject. 

"  Yes,"  I  added,  grasping  old  Andries  by  the  hand— • 
"  Yes,  Chainbearer,  I  shall  comply  with  your  often-expressed 
wishes.  Again  and  again  have  you  recommended  your 
lovely  niece  to  me  as  a  wife,  and  I  come  now  to  take  you 
at  your  word,  and  to  say  that  nothing  will  make  me  so 
happy  as  to  be  able  to  call  you  uncle." 

To  my  surprise,  Chainbearer  expressed  no  delight  at  this 
announcement.  I  remarked  that  he  had  said  nothing  to  me 
on  his  favourite  old  subject  of  my  marrying  his  niece,  since 
my  arrival  at  the  Nest ;  and  now,  when  I  was  not  only  so 
ready,  but  so  anxious  to  meet  his  wishes,  I  could  plainly 
see  that  he  drew  back  from  my  proposals,  and  wished  they 
had  not  been  made.  Amazed,  I  waited  for  him  to  speak 
with  a  disappointment  and  uneasiness  I  cannot  express. 

"  Mortaunt !  Mortaunt !"  at  length  broke  out  of  the  old 
man's  very  heart — "  I  wish  to  Heafen  you  hat  nefer  sait 
t'is  !  I  lofe  you,  poy,  almost  as  much  as  I  lofe  Dus,  herself; 
put  it  griefs  me — it  griefs  me  to  hear  you  talk  of  marryin' 
t'e  gal !" 

"  You  grieve,  as  much  as  you  astonish  me,  Chainbearer, 
by  making  such  a  remark  !  How  often  have  you,  yourself 
expressed  to  me  the  wish  that  I  might  become  acquainted 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  335 

with  your  niece,  and  love  her,  and  marry  her  !  Now,  when 
I  have  seen  her — when  I  have  become  acquainted  with  her 
— when  I  love  her  to  my  heart's  core,  and  wish  to  make  her 
my  wife,  you  meet  my  proposals  as  if  they  were  unworthy 
of  you  and  yours  !" 

"  Not  so,  lat — not  so.  Nut'in'  would  make  me  so  happy 
as  to  see  you  t'e  huspant  of  Dus,  supposin'  it  coult  come  to 
pass,  ant  wrong  pe  tone  to  no  one ;  put  it  cannot  pe  so.  I 
tid  talk  as  you  say,  ant  a  foolish,  selfish,  conceitet  olt  man 
I  wast  for  my  pains.  I  wast  t'en  in  t'e  army,  ant  we  wast 
captains  alike;  ant  I  wast  t'e  senior  captain,  and  might 
orter  you  apout,  ant  tid  orter  you  apout ;  ant  I  wore  an 
epaulette,  like  any  ot'er  captain,  and  hat  my  grantfat'er's 
swort  at  my  site,  ant  t'ought  we  wast  equals,  ant  t'at  it  wast 
an  honour  to  marry  my  niece  ;  put  all  t'is  wast  changet,  lat, 
when  I  came  into  t'e  woots  ag'in,  ant  took  up  my  chain,  ant 
pegan  to  lif,  ant  to  work,  ant  to  feel  poor,  ant  to  see  myself 
as  I  am.  No — no  —  Mortaunt  Littlepage,  t'e  owner  of 
Ravensnest,  ant  t'e  heir  of  Mooseritge,  ant  of  Satanstoe,  ant 
of  Lilacsbush,  ant  of  all  t'e  fine  houses,  ant  stores,  ant  farms 
t'at  are  in  York  ant  up  ant  town  t'e  country,  is  not  a  suitaple 
match  for  Dus  Malbone  !" 

"  This  is  so  extraordinary  a  notion  for  you  to  take  up, 
Chainbearer,  and  so  totally  opposed  to  all  I  have  ever  before 
heard  from  you  on  the  subject,  that  I  must  be  permitted  to 
ask  where  you  got  it  ?" 

"  From  Dus  Malbone,  herself — yes,  from  her  own  mout', 
ant  in  her  own  pretty  manner  of  speech." 

"  Has,  then,  the  probability  of  my  ever  offering  to  your 
niece  been  a  subject  of  conversation  between  you  ?" 

"  T'at  hast  it— t'at  hast  it,  ant  time  ant  ag'in,  too.  Sit 
town  on  t'at  log  of  woot,  ant  listen  to  what  I  haf  to  say,  ant 
I  will  tell  you  t'e  whole  story.  Susquesus,  you  neetn't  go 
off  into  t'at  corner,  like  a  gentleman  as  you  pe ;  t'ough  it  is 
only  an  Injin  gentleman;  for  I  haf  no  secrets  from  such  a 
frient  as  yourself.  Come  pack,  t'en,  Injin,  ant  take  your 
olt  place,  close  at  my  site,  where  you  haf  so  often  peen 
when  t'e  inemy  wast  chargin'  us  poltly  in  front." — Sureflint 
quietly  did  as  desired,  while  Chainbearer  turned  towards  me 
and  continued  the  discourse.  —  "You  wilt  see,  Mortaunt, 
poy,  t'ese  here  are  t'e  fery  facts  ant  trut'  of  t'e  case.  When 


336  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

I  came  first  from  camp,  ant  I  wast  full  of  the  prife,  ant 
aut'ority,  ant  feelin's  of  a  soltier,  I  pegan  to  talk  to  Dug 
apout  you,  as  I  hat  peen  accustomet  to  talk  to  you  apout 
Dus.  Ant  I  tolt  her  what  a  fine,  bolt,  hantsome,  generous, 
well-principlet  young  fellow  you  wast," — the  reader  will 
overlook  my  repeating  that  to  which  the  partiality  of  the 
Chainbearer  so  readily  gave  utterance — "  ant  I  tolt  her  of 
your  sarfice  in  t'e  wars,  ant  of  your  wit,  ant  how  you  mate 
us  all  laugh,  t'ough  we  might  pe  marchin'  into  pattle,  ant 
what  a  fat'er  you  hat,  ant  what  a  grantfat'er,  ant  all  t'at  a 
goot  ant  a  warm  frient  ought  to  say  of  anot'er,  when  it  wast 
true,  ant  when  it  was  tolt  to  a  hantsome  ant  heart-whole 
young  woman  t'at  he  wishet  to  fall  in  love  wit'  t'at  fery 
same  frient.  Well,  I  tolt  t'is  to  Dus,  riot  once,  Mortaunt  ; 
nor  twice ;  put  twenty  times,  you  may  depent  on  it." 

"  Which  makes  me  the  more  curious  to  hear  what  Dug 
could,  or  did  say  in  reply." 

"  It 's  t'at  reply,  lat,  t'at  makes  all  t'e  present  tifficulty 
petween  us.  For  a  long  time  Dus  sait  little  or  not'in'. 
Sometimes  she  woult  look  saucy  ant  laugh — ant  you  know, 
lat,  t'e  gal  can  do  bot'  of  t'em  t'ings  as  well  as  most  young 
women.  Sometimes  she  woult  pegin  to  sing  a  song,  all 
about  fait'less  young  men,  perhaps,  ant  proken-hearted  vir 
gins.  Sometimes  she  woult  look  sorrowful,  ant  I  coult  fint 
tears  startin'  in  her  eyes ;  ant  t'en  I  pecome  as  soft  and 
feeple-hearted  as  a  gal,  myself,  to  see  one  who  smiles  so 
easily  mate  to  shet  tears." 

"  But,  how  did  all  this  end  ?  What  can  possibly  have 
occurred,  to  cause  this  great  change  in  your  own  wishes  ?" 

"  'Tis  not  so  much  my  wishes  t'at  be  changet,  Mortaunt, 
ast  my  opinion.  If  a  poty  coult  haf  t'ings  just  as  he  wishet, 
lat,  Dus  ant  you  shoult  pe  man  and  wife,  so  far  as  it  tepentet 
on  me,  pefore  t'e  week  ist  out.  Put,  we  are  not  our  own 
masters,  nor  t'e  masters  of  what  ist  to  happen  to  our  ne 
phews  and  nieces,  any  more  t'an  we  are  masters  of  what 
ist  to  happen  to  ourselves. .  Put,  I  wilt  tell  you  just  how  it 
happenet.  One  tay,  as  I  wast  talking  to  t'e  gal  in  t'e  olt 
way,  she  listenet  to  all  I  hat  to  say  more  seriously  t'an  ast 
common,  ant  when  she  answeret,  it  wast  much  in  t'is  man 
ner: —  'I  t'enk  you  from  t'e  pottom  of  my  heart,  uncle 
/  she  sait,  *  not  only  for  all  t'at  you  haf  tone  for 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  337 

ine,  t'e  orphan  da'ghter  of  your  sister,  put  for  all  you  wish 
in  my  pehalf.  I  perceive  t'at  t'is  itee  of  my  marryin'  your 
young  frient,  Mr.  Mortaunt  Littlepage,  hast  a  strong  holt  on 
your  feelin's,  ant  it  ist  time  to  talk  seriously  on  t'at  supject. 
When  you  associatet  with  t'at  young  gentleman,  uncle  Chain- 
pearer,  you  wast  captain  Coejemans,  of  t'e  New  York  state 
line,  ant  his  senior  officer,  ant  it  wast  nat'ral  to  s'pose  your 
niece  fit  to  pecome  his  wife.  Put  it  ist  our  tuly  to  look  at 
what  we  now  are,  ant  are  likely  to  remain.  Major  Little- 
page  hast  a  fa'ter  ant  a  mot'er,  I  haf  he'rt  you  say,  uncle 
Chainpearer,  ant  sisters,  too ;  now  marriage  ist  a  most  seri 
ous  t'ing.  It  ist  to  last  for  life,  ant  no  one  shoult  form  sich 
a  connection  wit'out  reflectin'  on  all  its  pearin's.  It  ist 
hartly  possiple  t'at  people  in  t'e  prosperity  ant  happiness  of 
t'ese  Littlepages  woult  wish  to  see  an  only  son,  ant  t'e  heir 
of  t'eir  name  ant  estates,  takin'  for  a  wife  a  gal  out  of  t'e 
wools ;  one  t'at  ist  not  only  a  chainpearer's  niece,  put  who 
hast  peen  a  chainpearer  herself,  ant  who  can  pring  into  t'eir 
family  no  one  t'ing  to  compensate  'em  for  t'e  sacrifice." 

"  And  you  had  the  heart  to  be  quiet,  Andries,  and  let 
Ursula  say  all  this  !" 

"  Ah  !  lat,  how  coult  I  help  it?  You  woult  have  tone  it 
yourself,  Mortaunt,  coult  you  haf  he'rt  how  prettily  she 
turnet  her  periots,  as  I  haf  he'rt  you  call  it,  ant  how  efery 
syllaple  she  sait  come  from  t'e  heart.  T'en  t'e  face  of  t'e 
gal  wast  enough  to  convince  me  t'at  she  wast  right ;  she 
looket  so  'arnest,  ant  sat,  and  peautiful,  Mortaunt !  No, 
no ;  when  an  itee  comes  into  t'e  mint,  wit'  t'e  ait  of  sich 
worts  and  looks,  my  poy,  'tis  not  an  easy  matter  to  get  rit 
of- it." 

"  You  do  not  seriously  mean  to  say,  Chainbearer,  that 
vou  will  refuse  me  Dus  ?" 

"  Dus  will  do  t'at  herself,  lat ;  for  she  ist  still  a  chain- 
pearer's  niece,  ant  you  are  still  general  Littlepage's  son  ant 
heir.  Try  her,  ant  see  what  she  wilt  say." 

"  But  I  have  tried  her,  as  you  call  it ;  have  told  her  of 
my  love ;  have  offered  my  hand,  and " 

"Ant  what?" 
Why  she  does  not  answer  me  as  you  say  she  answered 


you." 


00 


338  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

•*  Hast  t'e  gal  salt  she  woult  haf  you,  Mortaunt  ?  Hasl 
she  said  yes  ?" 

"  Conditionally  she  has.  If  my  grandmother  cheerfully 
consent,  and  my  parents  do  the  same ;  and  my  sister  Ket- 
tletas  and  her  husband,  and  my  laughing,  merry  Kate,  then 
Dus  will  accept  me." 

"  T'is  ist  strange !  Ah  !  I  see  how  it  is ;  fe  gal  has  seen 
you,  ant  peen  much  wit'  you,  ant  talket  wit'  you,  ant  sung 
wit'  you,  ant  laughet  wit'  you ;  ant  I  do  s'pose,  a'ter  all,  Cat 
will  make  a  tifference  in  her  judgment  of  you.  I  'm  a  pach- 
elor,  Mortaunt,  ant  haf  no  wife,  nor  any  sweetheart,  put  it 
ist  easy  enough  to  comprehent  how  all  t'ese  matters  must 
make  a  fery  great  tifFerence.  I  'm  glat,  howsefer,  t'at  t'e 
tifference  is  not  so  great  as  to  make  t'e  gal  forget  all  your 
frients ;  for  if  efery  poty  consents,  and  ist  cheerful,  why 
t'en  my  pein'  a  chainbearer,  and  Dus'  pein'  so  poor  ant  for 
saken  like,  will  not  pe  so  likely  to  pe  rememperet  hereafter, 
and  pring  you  pitter  t'oughts." 

"Andries  Coejemans,  I  swear  to  you,  I  would  rather 
become  your  nephew  at  this  moment,  than  become  the  son- 
in-law  of  Washington  himself,  had  he  a  daughter." 

"  T'at  means  you  'd  rat'er  haf  Dus,  fan  any  ot'er  gal  of 
your  acquaintance.  T'at 's  nat'ral  enough,  and  may  make 
me  look  like  His  Excellency,  for  a  time,  in  your  eyes ;  put 
when  you  come  to  t'ink  and  feel  more  coolly,  my  tear  poy, 
t'ere  ist  t'e  tanger  t'at  you  wilt  see  some  tifTerence  petween 
t'e  captain-general  and  commanter-in-chief  of  all  t'e  Ame 
rican  armies,  ant  a  poor  chainpearer,  who  in  his  pest  lays 
was  nut'in'  more  t'an  a  captain  in  t'e  New  York  line.  I 
know  you  lofe  me,  Mordaunt ;  put  t'ere  ist  tanger  t'at  it 
might  not  pe  exactly  an  uncle  and  nephew's  lofe  in  t'e  long 
run.  I  am  only  a  poor  Tutchman,  when  all  is  sait,  wit'out 
much  etication,  and  wit'  no  money,  and  not  much  more 
manners;  while  you've  peen  to  college,  and  pe  college 
1'arn't,  and  pe  as  gay  ant  gallant  a  spark  as  can  pe  fount  In 
t'e  States,  as  we  call  t'e  olt  colonies  now.  Wast  you  a 
Yankee,  Mortaunt,  I  'd  see  you  marriet  and  unmarriet 
twenty  times,  pefore  I  'd  own  as  much  as  t'is ;  put  a  man 
may  pe  sensiple  of  his  ignorance,  ant  pat  etication,  ant 
weaknesses,  wit'out  wishin'  to  pe  tolt  of  it  to  his  face,  and 
laughed  at  apout  it,  py  efery  ABC  scholar  t'at  comes  out 


THE    CIIAINBEARER. 

of  New  Englant.  No,  no — I  'm  a  poor  Tutchman,  I  know ; 
and  a  potty  may  say  as  much  to  a  frient,  when  he  woult  tie 
pefore  he  woult  own  t'ere  wast  anyt'ing  poor  apout  it  to  an 
inimy." 

"  I  would  gladly  pursue  this  discourse,  Andries,  and  bring 
it  to  a  happy  termination,"  I  answered ;  "  but  here  come  the 
squatters  in  a  body,  and  I  suppose  some  movement  or  pro 
posal  from  them  is  in  the  wind.  We  will  defer  our  matter, 
then ;  you  remembering  that  I  agree  to  none  of  your  opi 
nions  or  decisions.  Dus  is  to  be  mine,  if  indeed  we  can 
protect  her  against  the  grasp  of  these  wretches.  I  have 
something  to  say  on  that  subject,  too ;  but  this  is  not  the 
moment  to  utter  it." 

Chainbearer  seized  my  hand,  and  gave  it  a  friendly 
pressure,  which  terminated  the  discourse.  On  the  subject 
of  the  intentions  of  Thousandacres  towards  Dus,  I  was  now 
not  altogether  free  from  uneasiness;  though  the  tumult 
of  rapturous  feeling  through  which  I  had  just  passed, 
drove  it  temporarily  from  my  mind.  I  had  no  apprehen 
sions  that  Ursula  Malbone  would  ever  be  induced,  by  ordi 
nary  means,  to  become  the  wife  of  Zephaniah ;  but  I  trem 
bled  as  to  what  might  be  the  influence  of  menaces  against 
her  uncle  and  myself.  Nor  was  I  altogether  easy  on  the 
score  of  the  carrying  out  of  those  menaces.  It  often  hap 
pens  with  crime,  as  in  the  commission  of  ordinary  sins,  that 
men  are  impelled  by  circumstances,  which  drive  them  to 
deeds  from  which  they  would  have  recoiled  in  horror,  had 
the  consummation  been  directly  presented  to  their  minds, 
without  the  intervention  of  any  mediate  causes.  But  the 
crisis  was  evidently  approaching,  and  I  waited  with  as  much 
calmness  as  I  could  assume  for  its  development.  As  for 
Chainbearer,  being  still  ignorant  of  the  conversation  I  had 
overheard  in  the  mill,  he  had  no  apprehensions  of  evil  from 
the  source  of  my  greatest  dread. 

The  day  had  advanced,  all  this  time,  and  the  sun  had 
set,  and  night  was  close  upon  us,  as  Tobit  and  his  brethren 
came  to  the  door  of  our  prison,  and  called  upon  Chainbearer 
and  myself  to  come  forth,  leaving  Susquesus  behind.  We 
obeyed  with  alacrity ;  for  there  was  a  species  of  liberty  in 
being  outside  of  those  logs,  with  my  limbs  unfettered,  though 
a  vigilant  watch  was  kept  over  us  both.  On  each  side  of 


THE    CHAINBEARER. 

me  walked  an  armed  man,  and  Chainbearer  was  honoured 
with  a  similar  guard.  For  all  this,  old  Andries  cared  but 
little.  He  knew  and  I  knew  that  the  time  could  not  be  very 
distant  when  we  might  expect  to  hear  from  Frank  Malbone  ; 
and  every  minute  that  went  by  added  to  our  confidence  in 
this  respect. 

We  were  about  half-way  between  the  store-house  and  the 
dwelling  of  Thousandacres,  towards  which  our  steps  were 
directed,  when  Andries  suddenly  stopped,  and  asked  leave 
to  say  a  word  to  me  in  private.  Tobit  was  at  a  loss  how 
to  take  this  request ;  but,  there  being  an  evident  desire  to 
keep  on  reasonably  good  terms  with  Chainbearer,  after  a 
short  pause  he  consented  to  form  an  extended  ring  with  his 
brothers,  leaving  me  and  my  old  friend  in  its  centre. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  t'ink  atvisaple  in  t'is  matter,"  com 
menced  Andries,  in.  a  sort  of  whisper.  "  It  cannot  pe  long 
afore  Malpone  will  be  pack  wit'  t'e  posse  ant  constaples,  ant 
so  fort' ;  now,  if  we  tell  t'ese  rapscallions  t'at  we  want  tay- 
light  to  meet  our  inimies  in,  ant  t'at  we  haf  no  stomach  for 
nightwork,  perhaps  t'ey'll  carry  us  pack  to  gaol,  ant  so  gif 
more  time  to  Frank  to  get  here." 

"  It  will  be  much  better,  Chainbearer,  to  prolong  our  in 
terview  with  these  squatters,  so  that  you  and  I  may  be  at 
large,  or  at  least  not  shut  up  in  the  store-house,  when  Mal 
bone  makes  his  appearance.  In  the  confusion  we  may  even 
escape  and  join  our  friends,  which  will  be  a  thousand  times 
better  than  to  be  found  within  four  walls." 

Andries  nodded  his  head,  in  sign  of  acquiescence,  and 
thenceforth  he  seemed  to  aim  at  drawing  things  out,  in  or 
der  to  gain  time,  instead  of  bringing  them  to  a  speedy  con 
clusion.  As  soon  as  our  discourse  was  ended,  the  young 
men  closed  round  us  again,  and  we  moved  on  in  a  body. 

Darkness  being  so  close  upon  us,  Thousandacres  had  de 
termined  to  hold  his  court,  this  time,  within  the  house,  having 
a  care  to  a  sufficient  watchfulness  about  the  door.  There  is 
little  variation  in  the  internal  distribution  of  the  room  of 
what  may  be  called  an  American  cottage.  About  two- 
thirds  of  the  space  is  given  to  the  principal  apartment,  which 
contains  the  fire-place,*  and  is  used  for  all  the  purposes  of 

*  At  the  present  day,  the  cooking-stove  has  nearly  superseded  the 
open  fire-place. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  341 

kitchen  and  sitting-room,  while  the  rest  of  the  building  is 
partitioned  into  three  several  subdivisions.  One  of  these 
subdivisions  is  commonly  a  small  bed-room ;  another  is  the 
buttery,  and  the  third  holds  the  stairs,  or  ladders,  by  which 
to  ascend  to  the  loft,  or  to  descend  to  the  cellar.  Such  was 
the  arrangement  of  the  dwelling  of  Thousandacres,  and  such 
is  the  arrangement  in  thousands  of  other  similar  buildings 
throughout  the  land.  The  thriving  husbandman  is  seldom 
long  contented,  however,  with  such  narrow  and  humble  ac 
commodations ;  but  the  framed  house,  of  two  stories  in 
height,  and  with  five  windows  in  front,  usually  soon  suc 
ceeds  this  cottage,  in  his  case.  It  is  rare,  indeed,  that  any 
American  private  edifice  has  more  than  five  windows  in 
front,  the  few  exceptions  which  do  exist  to  the  rule  being 
residences  of  mark,  and  the  supernumerary  windows  are 
generally  to  be  found  in  wings.  Some  of  our  old,  solid, 
substantial,  stone  country  houses  occasionally  stretch  them 
selves  out  to  eight  or  nine  apertures  of  this  sort,  but  they 
are  rare.  I  cannot  gossip  here,  however,  about  country 
houses  and  windows,  when  I  have  matters  so  grave  before 
me  to  relate. 

In  the  forest,  and  especially  in  the  newer  portions  of  New 
York,  the  evenings  are  apt  to  be  cool,  even  in  the  warm 
months.  That  memorable  night,  I  well  remember,  had  a 
sharpness  about  it  that  threatened  even  a  frost,  and  Pru 
dence  had  lighted  a  fire  on  the  yawning  hearth  of  her  rude 
chimney.  By  the  cheerful  blaze  of  that  fire,  which  was 
renewed  from  time  to  time  by  dried  brush,  the  American 
frontier  substitute  for  the  fagot,  were  the  scenes  I  am  about 
to  mention  enacted. 

We  found  all  the  males,  and  several  of  the  females,  as 
sembled  in  the  large  apartment  of  the  building  I  have  de 
scribed,  when  Chainbearer  and  myself  entered.  The  wife 
of  Tobit,  with  one  or  two  of  the  sisterhood,  however,  were 
absent;  doubtless  in  attendance  on  Dus.  Lowiny,  I  re 
marked,  stood  quite  near  the  fire,  and  the  countenance  of 
the  girl  seemed  to  me  to  be  saddened  and  thoughtful.  I 
trust  I  shall  not  be  accused  of  being  a  coxcomb  if  I  add, 
that  the  idea  crossed  my  mind,  that  the  appearance  and 
manners  of  a  youth,  so  much  superior  to  those  with  whom 
she  was  accustomed  to  associate,  had  made  a  slight  impres- 


342  THE     CIIAINBEARER. 

sion  on  this  girl's — I  will  not  say  heart,  for  imagination 
would  be  the  better  word — and  had  awakened  sympathies 
that  manifested  themselves  in  her  previous  conduct ;  while 
the  shade  that  was  now  cast  across  her  brow  came  quite  as 
much  from  the  scene  she  had  witnessed  between  myself  and 
Dus,  near  the  rock,  as  from  seeing  me  again  a  prisoner. 
The  friendship  of  this  girl  might  still  be  of  importance  to 
me,  and  still  more  so  to  Ursula,  and  I  will  acknowledge  that 
the  apprehension  of  losing  it  was  far  from  pleasant.  I  could 
only  wait  for  the  developments  of  time,  however,  in  order 
to  reach  any  certainty  on  this,  as  well  as  on  other  most  in 
teresting  topics. 

Thousandacres  had  the  civility  to  order  us  chairs,  and  we 
took  our  seats  accordingly.  On  looking  round  that  grave 
and  attentive  circle,  I  could  trace  no  new  signs  of  hostility ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  the  countenances  of  all  seemed  more 
pacific  than  they  were  when  we  parted.  I  considered  this 
as  an  omen  that  I  and  my  friend  should  receive  some  pro 
positions  that  tended  towards  peace.  In  this  I  was  not  mis 
taken  ;  the  first  words  that  were  uttered  having  that  cha 
racter. 

"It's  time  this  matter  atween  us,  Chainbearer,"  com 
menced  Thousandacres,  himself,  "  should  be  brought  to 
suthin'  like  an  eend.  It  keeps  the  b'ys  from  their  lumberin', 
and  upsets  my  whull  family.  I  call  myself  a  reasonable 
man  ;  and  be  as  ready  to  settle  a  difficulty  on  as  accommo- 
datin'  tarms  as  any  parson  you  '11  find  by  lookin'  up  and 
down  the  land.  Many  is  the  difficulty  that  I  've  settled  in 
my  day ;  and  I  'm  not  too  old  to  settle  'em  now.  Some 
times  I  've  fit  it  out,  when  I  've  fell  in  with  an  obstinate 
fellow ;  sometimes  I  've  left  it  out  to  men ;  and  sometimes 
I  've  settled  matters  myself.  No  man  can  say  he  ever 
know'd  me  refuse  to  hearken  to  reason,  or  know'd  me  to 
gi'n  up  a  just  cause,  so  long  as  there  was  a  morsel  of  a 
chance  to  defend  it.  When  overpowered  by  numbers,  and 
look'd  down  by  your  accursed  law,  as  you  call  it,  I  '11  own 
that,  once  or  twice  in  my  time,  when  young  and  inexpe- 
r'enced,  I  did  get  the  worst  of  it;  and  so  was  obliged  to  sort 
o'  run  away.  But  use  makes  parfect.  I  've  seen  so  much, 
by  seventy  odd,  as  to  have  1'arnt  to  take  time  by  the  fore 
lock,  and  don't  practyse  delays  in  business.  I  look  upon 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  843 

you,  Chainbearer,  as  a  man  much  like  myself,  reasonable, 
exper'nc'd,  and  willin'  to  accommodate.  I  see  no  great 
difficulty,  therefore,  in  settlin'  this  matter  on  the  spot,  so  as  to 
have  no  more  hard  feelin's  or  hot  words  atween  us.  Sich 
be  my  notions ;  and  I  should  like  to  hear  your'n." 

"  Since  you  speak  to  me,  T'ousantacres,  in  so  polite  and 
civil  a  manner,  I  'm  reaty  to  hear  you,  ant  to  answer  in  t'e 
same  temper,"  returned  old  Andries,  his  countenance  losing 
much  of  the  determined  and  angry  expression  with  which 
he  had  taken  his  seat  in  the  circle.  "  T'ere  ist  nutin'  fat 
more  pecomes  a  man,  t'an  moteration ;  ant  an  olt  man  in 
partic'lar.  I  do  not  t'ink,  however,  t'at  t'ere  ist  much  re- 
semplance  petween  you  ant  me,  T'ousantacres,  in  any  one 
t'ing,  except  it  pe  in  olt  age.  We  're  pot'  of  us  pretty  well 
atvancet,  ant  haf  reachet  a  time  of  life  when  it  pehooves  a 
man  to  examine  ant  reflect  on  t'e  great  trut's  t'at  are  to  pe 
fount  in  his  piple.  T'e  piple  ist  a  pook,  Aaron,  t'at  ist  not 
enough  re't  in  t?e  woots ;  t'ough  Almighty  Got  hast  all  t'e 
same  rights  to  t'e  sarfices  ant  worship  of  his  creatures  in  t'e 
forest,  as  to  t'e  worship  and  sarfices  of  his  creatures  in  t'e 
settlements.  I  'm  not  a  tellin'  you  t'is,  T'ousantacres,  py 
way  of  showin'  off  my  own  1'arnin' ;  for  all  I  know  on  the 
supject,  myself,  I  haf  got  from  Dus,  my  niece,  who  ist  as 
goot,  ant  as  willin',  ant  as  hanty  in  explainin'  sich  matters, 
as  any  tominie  I  ever  talket  wit'.  I  wish  you  woult  listen 
to  her,  yourself;  you  and  Prutence ;  when  I  t'ink  you 
woult  allow  t'at  her  tiscourse  ist  fery  etifyin'  ant  improfin*. 
Now  you  seem  in  t'e  right  temper,  ist  a  goot  time  to  pe 
penefitet  in  t'at  way ;  for  t'ey  tell  me  my  niece  ist  here,  ant 
at  hant." 

"  She  is ;  and  I  rej'ice  that  you  have  brought  her  name 
into  the  discourse  so  'arly ;  as  it  was  my  design  to  mention 
it  myself.  I  see  we  think  alike  about  the  young  woman, 
Chainbearer,  and  trust  and  believe  she  '11  be  the  means  of 
reconciling  all  parties,  and  of  making  us  good  fri'nds.  I  've 
sent  for  the  gal;  and  she'll  soon  be  coming  along,  with 
Tobit's  wife,  who  sets  by  her  wonderfully  already."  ' 

"  Well,  talkin'  of  wonterful  t'ings,  wonters  wilt  never 
cease,  I  do  pelieve  !"  Chainbearer  exclaimed,  for  he  really 
believed  that  the  family  of  the  squatter  was  taken  suddenly 
with  a  « religious  turn,'  and  that  something  like  a  conver- 


344  THE     CHAIN  BEARER. 

sion  was  about  to  occur.     "  Yes,  yes ;  it  ist  so ;  we  meet 
wit'  wonters  when  we  least  expect  'em ;  and  t'at  it  is  t'ai 


makes  wonters  so  wonterful  1" 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

**  Yet,  Hastings,  these  are  they 

Who  challenge  to  themselves  thy  country's  love  ? 
The  true,  the  constant,  who  alone  can  weigh, 

What  glory  should  demand,  or  liberty  approve  ! " 

AKENSIDE, 

A  PAUSE  succeeded  this  little  opening,  during  which  the 
assembly  was  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  Ursula  Malbone, 
and  that  semi-savage  guardian  that  "  set"  so  much  by  her, 
as  not  to  leave  her  out  of  sight  for  a  moment.  All  that 
time  Thousandacres  was  ruminating  on  his  own  plans ; 
while  old  Aridries  was  probably  reflecting  on  the  singular 
circumstance  that  "  wonters  shoult  pe  so  wonterful !"  At 
length  a  little  bustle  and  movement  occurred  near  the  door, 
the  crowd  collected  in  it  opened,  and  Dus  walked  into  the 
centre  of  the  room,  her  colour  heightened  by  excitement, 
but  her  step  firm,  and  her  air  full  of  spirit.  At  first,  the 
blazing  light  affected  her  sight,  and  she  passed  a  hand  over 
her  eyes.  Then  looking  around  I  met  her  gaze,  and  was 
rewarded  for  all  my  anxiety  by  one  of  those  glances,  into 
which  affection  knows  how  to  infuse  so  much  that  is  meaning 
and  eloquent.  I  was  thus  favoured  for  a  moment  only ; 
those  eyes  still  turning  until  they  met  the  fond  answering 
look  of  Chainbearer.  The  old  man  had  arisen,  and  he  now 
received  his  niece  in  his  arms  as  a  parent  would  embrace  a 
beloved  child. 

That  outpouring  of  feeling  lasted  but  a  little  while.  It 
had  been  unpremeditated  and  impulsive,  and  was  almost  as 
suddenly  suppressed.  It  gave  me,  however,  the  happiness 
of  witnessing  one  of  the  most  pleasant  sights  that  man  can 
behold ;  that  of  youth,  and  beauty,  and  delicacy,  and  female 


THE     CHAIN  BEAKER.  345 


tenderness,  pouring  out  their  feelings  on  the  bosom  of  a< 
on  the  ruder  qualities  of  one,  hardened  in  person  by  the 
exposures  of  a  life  passed  in  the  forest.  To  me  the  contrast 
between  the  fair,  golden  hair  of  Bus,  and  the  few  straggling, 
bleached  locks  of  her  uncle ;  the  downy,  peach-like  cheek 
of  the  girl,  and  the  red,  wrinkled,  and  sun-dried  countenance 
of  Chainbearer,  was  perfectly  delightful.  It  said  how  deep 
must  lie  those  sympathies  of  our  nature,  which  could  bring 
together  so  closely  two  so  differently  constituted  in  all  things, 
and  set  at  defiance  the  apparent  tendencies  of  taste  and 
habit. 

Dus  suffered  herself  to  be  thus  carried  away  by  her  feel 
ings  for  only  a  moment.  Accustomed  in  a  degree,  as  she 
certainly  was,  to  the  rough  associations  of  the  woods,  this 
was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  been  confronted  with  such 
an  assembly,  and  I  could  see  that  she  drew  back  into  her 
self  with  womanly  reserve,  as  she  now  gazed  around  her, 
and  saw  in  what  a  wild  and  unwonted  presence  she  stood. 
Still,  I  had  never  seen  her  look  so  supremely  lovely  as  she 
did  that  evening,  for  she  threw  Pris.  Bayard  and  Kate,  with 
all  their  advantages  of  dress,  and  freedom  from  exposure, 
far  into  the  shade.  Perhaps  the  life  of  Ursula  Malbone  had 
given  to  her  beauty  the  very  completeness  and  fulness,  that 
are  most  apt  to  be  wanting  to  the  young  American  girl,  who 
has  been  educated  in  the  over-tender  and  delicate  manner 
of  our  ordinary  parental  indulgence.  Of  air  and  exercise 
she  had  already  enjoyed  enough,  and  they  had  imparted  to 
her  bloom  and  person,  the  richness  and  development  that  are 
oftener  found  in  the  subordinate  than  in  the  superior  classes 
of  the  country. 

As  for  Thousandacres,  though  he  watched  every  move 
ment  of  Ursula  Malbone  with  jealous  interest,  he  said  no 
thing  to  interrupt  the  current  of  her  feelings.  As  soon  as 
she  left  her  uncle's  arms,  however,  Dus  drew  back  and  took 
the  rude  seat  that  I  had  placed  for  her  close  at  Chain  bearer's 
side.  I  was  paid  for  this  little  act  of  attention,  by  a  sweet 
smile  from  its  subject,  and  a  lowering  look  from  the  old 
squatter,  that  admonished  me  of  the  necessity  of  being 
cautious  of  manifesting  too  much  of  the  interest  I  felt  in  the 
beloved  object  before  me.  As  is  usual  in  assemblages  com 
posed  of  the  rude  and  unpractised,  a  long,  awkward  pause 


346  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

succeeded  this  introduction  of  Dus  to  our  presence.  After 
a  time,  however,  Aaron  resumed  the  subject  in  hand. 

"  We  've  met  to  settle  all  our  difficulties,  as  I  was  sayin'," 
observed  Thousandacres,  in  a  manner  as  deliberative  and 
considerate  as  if  he  were  engaged  in  one  of  the  most  blame 
less  pursuits  of  life,  the  outward  appearances  of  virtue  and 
vice  possessing  a  surprising  resemblance  to  each  other  — 
"  When  men  get  together  on  sich  a  purpose,  and  in  a  right 
spirit,  it  must  be  that  there's  a  fault  somewhere,  if  what's 
right  can't  be  come  at  atween  'em.  What 's  right  atwixt 
man  and  man  is  my  creed,  Chainbearer." 

"  What 's  right  petween  man  ant  man  is  a  goot  creet, 
T'ousantacres ;  ant  it 's  a  goot  religion,  too,"  answered  An- 
dries,  coldly. 

"  That  it  is  ! — that  it  is  1  and  I  now  see  that  you  're  in  a 
reasonable  temper,  Chainbearer,  and  that  there 's  a  prospect 
of  business  in  you.  I  despise  a  man  that 's  so  set  in  his 
notions  that  there 's  no  gettin'  him  to  give  in  an  inch  in  a 
transaction — don't  you  hold  to  that  too,  captain  Andries?" 

"  T'at  tepents  on  what  t'e  notions  pe.  Some  notions  di) 
nopoty  any  goot,  ant  t'e  sooner  we  're  rit  of  'em  t'e  petter . 
while  some  notions  pe  so  fery  excellent  t'at  a  man  hat  pest 
lay  town  his  life  as  lay  t'em  town." 

This  answer  puzzled  Thousandacres,  who  had  no  idea  of 
a  man's  ever  dying  for  opinion's  sake ;  and  who  was  pro 
bably  anxious,  just  at  that  moment,  to  find  his  companion 
sufficiently  indifferent  to  principle,  to  make  some  sacrifices 
to  expediency.  It  was  quite  evident  this  man  was  disposed 
to  practise  a  ruse  on  this  occasion,  that  is  often  resorted  to 
by  individuals,  and  sometimes  by  States,  when  disposed  to 
gain  a  great  advantage  out  of  a  very  small  right ;  that  of 
demanding  much  more  than  they  expect  to  receive,  and  of 
making  a  great  merit  of  yielding  points  that  they  never  had 
the  smallest  claim  to  maintain.  But,  this  disposition  of  the 
squatter's  will  make  itself  sufficiently  apparent  as  we  pro 
ceed. 

"  I  don't  see  any  use  in  talkin'  about  layin'  down  lives," 
Thousandacres  returned  to  Chainbearer's  remark,  "  seein* 
this  is  not  a  life  and  death  transaction  at  all.  The  most  that 
can  be  made  of  squattin',  give  the  law  its  full  swing,  is  tres 
pass  and  damages,  and  them  an't  matters  to  frighten  a  man 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  347 

that  has  stood  out  ag'in  'em  all  his  days.  We  're  pretty 
much  sich  crittur's  as  sarcumstances  make  us.  There  be 
men,  I  don't  question,  that  a  body  can  skear  half  out  of 
their  wits  with  a  writ,  while  a  whull  flock  of  sheep,  skins 
and  wool  united,  wunt  intimidate  them  that's  use  to  sich 
things.  I  go  on  the  principle  of  doin'  what's  right,  let  the 
law  say  what  it  will  of  the  matter ;  and  this  is  the  principle 
on  which  I  wish  to  settle  our  present  difficulty." 

"  Name  your  tarms  —  name  your  tarms  !"  cried  Chain- 
bearer,  a  little  impatiently ;  "  talkin'  ist  talkin',  all  t'e  worlt 
ofer,  ant  actin'  ist  actin'.  If  you  haf  anyt'ing  to  propose, 
here  we  are  reaty  ant  willin'  to  hear  it." 

"  That 's  hearty,  and  just  my  way  of  thinkin'  and  feelin', 
and  I  '11  act  up  to  it,  though  it  was  the  gospel  of  St.  Paul 
himself,  and  I  was  set  on  followin'  it.  Here,  then,  is  the 
case,  and  any  man  can  understand  it.  There 's  two  rights 
to  all  the  land  on  'arth,  and  the  whull  world  over.  One  of 
these  rights  is  what  I  call  a  king's  right,  or  that  which  de 
pends  on  writin's,  and  laws,  and  sich  like  contrivances  ;  and 
the  other  depends  on  possession.  It  stands  to  reason,  that 
fact  is  better  than  any  writin'  about  it  can  be ;  but  I  'm 
willin'  to  put  'em  on  a  footin'  for  the  time  bein',  and  for  the 
sake  of  accommodatin'.  I  go  all  for  accommodatin'  matters, 
and  not  for  stirrin'  up  ill  blood ;  and  that  I  tell  Chainbearer, 
b'ys,  is  the  right  spirit  to  presarve  harmony  and  fri'ndship  !" 

This  appeal  was  rewarded  by  a  murmur  of  general  ap 
probation  in  all  that  part  of  the  audience  which  might  be 
supposed  to  be  in  the  squatter  interest,  while  the  part  that 
might  be  called  adverse,  remained  silent,  though  strictly  at 
tentive,  old  Andries  included. 

"  Yes,  that's  my  principles"  —  resumed  Thousandacres, 
taking  a  hearty  draught  of  cider,  a  liquor  of  which  he  had 
provided  an  ample  allowance,  passing  the  mug  civilly  to 
Chainbearer,  as  soon  as  he  had  had  his  swallow  —  "Yes, 
that 's  my  principles,  and  good  principles  they  be,  for  them 
that  likes  peace  and  harmony,  as  all  must  allow.  Now,  in 
this  matter  afore  us,  general  Littlepage  and  his  partner 
ripresents  writin's,  and  I  and  mine  ri present  fact.  I  don't 
say  which  is  the  best,  for  I  don't  want  to  be  hard  on  any 
man's  rights,  and  'specially  when  the  accommodatin'  spirit 
is  up  and  doin' ;  but  I  'm  fact,  and  the  gin'ral's  pretty  much 


348  THE     CHAIN  BE  A  HER. 

writin's.  But,  difficulties  has  sprung  up  atwixt  us,  and  it '« 
high  time  to  put  'em  down.  I  look  upon  you,  Chainbearer 
as  the  fri'nd  of  the  t'other  owners  of  this  sile,  and  I  'm  now 
ready  to  make  proposals,  or  to  hear  them,  just  as  it  may 
prove  convenient." 

"  I  haf  no  proposals  to  make,  nor  any  aut'ority  to  offer 
t'em.  I  'm  nut'in  here,  put  a  chainpearer,  wit'  a  contract 
to  survey  t'e  patent  into  small  lots,  ant  t'en  my  tuty  ist  tone. 
Put,  here  ist  General  Littlepage's  only  son,  ant  he  ist  em- 
poweret,  I  unterstant,  to  do  all  t'at  ist  necessary  on  t'is 
tract,  as  t'e  attorney — " 

"  He  is  and  he  isn't  an  attorney  !"  interrupted  Thousand 
acres,  a  little  fiercely  for  one  in  whom  '  the  accommodatin 
spirit  was  up.'     At  one  moment  he  says  he  's  an  attorney 
and  at  the  next  he  isn't.     I  can't  stand  this  onsartainty  any 
very  great  while." 

"  Pooh,  pooh !  T'ousantacres,"  returned  Chainbearer, 
coolly,  "  you  're  frightenet  at  your  own  shatow ;  ant  t'at 
comes,  let  me  telt  you,  from  not  lifing  in  '  peace  ant  har 
mony,'  as  you  call  it,  youself,  wit'  t'e  law.  A  man  hast  a 
conscience,  whet'er  he  pe  a  skinner  or  a  cow-boy,  or  efen  a 
squatter ;  ant  he  hast  it,  pecause  Got  hast  gifen  it  to  him, 
ant  not  on  account  of  any  sarfices  of  his  own.  T'at  con 
science  it  is,  t'at  makes  my  young  frient  Mortaunt,  here,  an 
attorney  in  your  eyes,  when  he  ist  no  more  of  a  lawyer  t'an 
you  pe  yourself." 

"  Why  has  he  called  himself  an  attorney,  then,  and  why 
do  you  call  him  one.  An  attorney  is  an  attorney,  in  my 
eyes,  and  little  difference  is  there  atween  'em.  Rattlesnakes 
would  fare  better  in  a  clearin'  of  Thousandacres',  than  the 
smartest  attorney  in  the  land  !" 

"  Well,  well,  haf  your  own  feelin's ;  for  I  s'pose  Satan 
has  put  'em  into  you,  ant  talkin'  won't  pring  t'em  out.  T'is 
young  gentleman,  however,  ist  no  attorney  of  t'e  sort  you 
mean,  olt  squatter,  put  he  hast  peen  a  soltier,  like  myself, 
ant  in  my  own  regiment,  which  wast  his  fat'ers,  ant  a  prave 
young  man  he  ist  ant  wast,  ant  one  t'at  hast  fou't  gallantly 
for  liperty — " 

"  If  he 's  a  fri'nd  of  liberty,  he  should  be  a  fri'nd  of 
Mberty's  people;  should  give  liberty  and  take  liberty. 
Now,  I  call  it  liberty  to  let  every  man  have  as  much  land 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  349 

as  he  has  need  on,  and  no  more>  keepin'  the  rest  for  them 
that's  in  the  same  sitiation.  If  he  and  his  father  be  true 
fri'nds  of  liberty,  let  'em  prove  it  like  men,  by  giving  up  all 
claims  to  any  more  land  than  they  want.  ThaU*s  what  I 
call  liberty !  Let  every  man  have  as  much  land  as  he  's 
need  on;  that's  my  religion,  and  it's  liberty,  too."* 

"  Why  are  you  so  moterate,  T'ousantacres  ?  why  are  you 
so  unreasonaply  moterate?  Why  not  say  t'at  efery  man 
hast  a  right  to  eferyt'ing  he  hast  need  of,  ant  so  make  him 
comfortaple  at  once !  T'ere  is  no  wistom  in  toin'  t'ings  by 
hafs,  ant  it  ist  always  petter  to  surfey  all  t'e  lant  you  want, 
while  t'e  compass  is  set  ant  t'e  chains  pe  goin'.  It 's  just  as 
much  liperty  to  haf  a  right  to  share  in  a  man's  tollars,  as  to 
share  in  his  lants." 

"  I  don't  go  as  far  as  that,  Chainbearer,"  put  in  Thou- 
sandacres,  with  a  degree  of  moderation  that  ought  to  put  tho 
enemies  of  his  principles  to  the  blush.  "  Money  is  what  a 
man  'arns  himself,  and  he  has  a  right  to  it,  and  so  I  say  let 
him  keep  it ;  but  land  is  necessary,  and  every  man  has  a 
right  to  as  much  as  he  has  need  on — I  wouldn't  give  him  an 
acre  more,  on  no  account  at  all." 

"  Put  money  wilt  puy  lant ;  ant,  in  sharin'  t'e  tollars,  you 
share  t'e  means  of  puyin'  as  much  lant  as  a  man  hast  neet 

*  I  am  a  little  apprehensive  that  the  profound  political  philosophers 
who  have  sprung  up  among  us  within  a  few  years,  including  some 
in  high  places,  and  who  virtually  maintain  that  the  American  is  so 
ineffably  free,  that  it  is  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  the  institutions  of  the 
country,  to  suffer  him  to  be  either  landlord  or  tenant,  however  much 
he  may  desire  it  himself  (and  no  one  pretends  that  either  law  or  facts 
compel  him  to  be  either,  contrary  to  his  own  wishes),  will  feel  morti 
fied  at  discovering  that  they  have  not  the  merit  of  first  proposing 
their  own  exquisite  theory  ;  Aaron  Thousandacres  having  certainly 
preceded  them  by  sixty  years.  There  is  no  great  secret  on  the  sub 
ject  of  the  principle  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  this  favourite  doc 
trine,  the  Deity  himself  having  delivered  to  man,  as  far  back  as  the 
days  of  Moses,  the  tenth  commandment,  with  the  obvious  design  of 
controlling  it.  An  attempt  to  prove  that  the  institutions  of  this 
country  are  unsuited  to  the  relations  of  landlord  and  tenant,  is  an 
attempt  to  prove  that  they  are  unsuited  to  meet  the  various  contin 
gencies  of  human  affairs,  and  is  an  abandonment  of  their  defence, 
as  that  defence  can  only  be  made  on  broad,  manly,  and  justifiable 
grounds.  As  a  political  principle,  it  is  just  as  true  that  the  relations 
of  debtor  and  creditor  are  unsuited  to  the  institutions,  and  ought  to 
be  abolished. — EDITOR. 
30 


350  THE    CliAlNBEAREK, 

of;  t'en  t'ere  ist  a  great  teal  more  lant  ast  money  in  i'ia 
country,  ant,  in  gih'n'  a  man  lant,  you  only  gif  him  t'at 
which  ist  so  cheap  ant  common,  t'at  he  must  pe  a  poor  tefil 
if  he  can't  get  all  t'e  lant  he  wants  wit'out  much  trouple  and 
any  squattin',  if  you  wilt  only  gif  him  ever  so  little  money. 
No,  no,  T'ousantacres  —  you  're  fery  wrong ;  you  shoult 
pegin  to  tivite  wit'  t'e  tollars,  ant  t'at  wilt  not  tisturp  society, 
as  tollars  are  in  t'e  pocket,  ant  go  ant  come  eiery  day  ; 
whereast  lant  is  a  fixture,  ant  some  people  lofe  t'eir  own 
hills,  ant  rocks,  ant  trees — when  t'ey  haf  peen  long  in  a 
family  most  especially." 

There  was  a  dark  scowl  gathering  on  the  brow  of  Thou» 
jsandacres,  partly  because  he  felt  himself  puzzled  by  the 
upright  and  straight- forward  common  sense  of  Chainbearer, 
and  partly  for  a  reason  that  he  himself  made  manifest  in  the 
answer  that  he  quite  promptly  gave  to  my  old  friend's 
remarks. 

"  No  man  need  say  anything  ag'in  squattin'  that  wants 
to  keep  fri'nds  with  me,"  Thousandacres  put  in,  with  cer 
tain  twitchings  about  the  muscles  of  the  mouth,  that  were 
so  many  signs  of  his  being  in  earnest.  "  I  hold  to  liberty 
and  a  man's  rights,  and  that  is  no  reason  I  should  be  de 
flected  on.  My  notions  be  other  men's  notions,  I  know, 
though  they  be  called  squatters'  notions.  Congressmen 
have  held  'em,  and  will  hold  'em  ag'in,  if  they  expect  much 
support,  in  some  parts  of  the  country,  at  election  time.  I 
dare  say  the  day  will  come,  when  governors  will  be  found 
to  hold  'em.*  Governors  be  but  men  a'ter  all,  and  must 
hold  doctrines  that  satisfy  men's  wants,  or  they  won't  be 
governors  long.  But  all  this  is  nuthin'  but  talk,  and  I  want 
to  come  to  suthin'  like  business,  Chainbearer.  Here 's  this 
clearin',  and  here 's  the  lumber.  Now,  I  'm  willin'  to  settle 
on  some  sich  tarms  as  these  :  I  '11  keep  the  lumber,  carryin' 
it  off  as  soon  as  the  water  gets  to  be  high  enough,  agreein* 
to  pay  for  the  privilege  by  not  fellin'  another  tree,  though  I 
must  have  the  right  to  saw  up  sich  logs  as  be  cut  and  hauled 
already ;  and  then,  as  to  the  land  and  clearin',  if  the  writin* 
owners  want  'em,  they  can  have  'em  by  payin'  for  the  better 
ments,  leavin'  the  price  out  to  men  in  this  neighbourhood, 

*  Thousandacres  speaks  here  like  a  veritable  prophet.— Ewro*. 


THE    CIIAINBEARER.  351 

Bin1  city-bred  folks  can't  know  nothin'  of  the  toil  and  labour 
of  choppin',  and  loggin',  and  ashin',  ana  gettin'  in,  and  crop- 
pin'  new  lands." 

"  Mortaunt,  t'at  proposal  ist  for  you.  I  haf  nut'in'  to  do 
wit'  t'e  clearin'  put  to  surfey  it ;  and  t'at  much  will  I  per 
form,  when  I  get  as  far  ast  t'e  place,  come  t'ere  goot,  01 
come  t'ere  efil  of  it." 

"Survey  this  clearin'!"  put  in  Tobit,  with  his  raven 
throat,  and  certainly  in  a  somewhat  menacing  tone.  "  No, 
no,  Chainbearer — the  man  is  not  out  in  the  woods,  that 
could  ever  get  his  chain  across  this  clearin'." 

"  T'at  man,  I  tell  you,  is  Andries  Coejemans,  commonly 
called  Chainpearer,"  answered  my  old  friend,  calmly.  "  No 
clearin',  ant  no  squatter,  ever  stoppet  him  yet,  nor  do  I 
t'ink  he  will  pe  stoppet  here,  from  performin'  his  tuty.  Put 
praggin'  is  a  pat  quality,  ant  we  '11  leaf  time  to  show  t'e 
trut'." 

Thousandacres  gave  a  loud  hem,  and  looked  very  dark, 
though  he  said  nothing  until  time  had  been  given  to  his 
blood  to  resume  its  customary  current.  Then  he  pursued 
the  discourse  as  follows — evidently  bent  on  keeping  on  good 
terms  with  Chainbearer  as  long  as  possible. 

"  On  the  whull,"  he  said,  "  I  rather  think,  Tobit,  't  will 
be  best  if  you  leave  this  matter  altogether  to  me.  Years 
cool  the  blood,  and  allow  time  to  reason  to  spread.  Years 
be  as  necessary  to  judgment  as  a  top  to  a  fruit-tree,  I  kind 
o'  b'lieve  that  Chainbearer  and  I,  being  both  elderly  and 
considerate  men,  will  be  apt  to  get  along  best  together.  I 
dare  say,  Chainbearer,  that  if  the  surveyin'  of  this  clearin' 
be  put  to  you  on  the  footin'  of  defiance,  that  your  back 
would  get  up,  like  any  body  else's,  and  you  'd  bring  on  the 
chain,  let  who  might  stand  in  your  way.  But,  that's  neither 
here  nor  there.  You  're  welcome  to  chain  out  just  as  much 
of  this  part  of  the  patent  as  you  see  fit,  and  't  will  help  us 
along  so  much  the  better  when  we  come  to  the  trade.  Rea 
son  's  reason  ;  and  I  'm  of  an  accommodatin'  spirit." 

"  So  much  t'e  petter,  T'ousantacres ;  yes,  so  much  t'e 
pelter,"  answered  old  Andries,  somewhat  mollified  by  the 
conciliatory  temper  in  which  the  squatter  now  delivered  him 
self.  "  When  work  ist  to  pe  performet,  it  must  be  per- 
formet;  ant,  as  I'm  hiret  to  surfey  ana  chain  t'e  whole 


852  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

estate,  t'e  whole  estate  must  pe  chainet  ant  surfeyet.  Well, 
what  else  haf  you  to  say  ? 

'  I  'm  not  answered  as  to  my  first  offer.  I  '11  take  the 
lumber,  agreein'  not  to  cut  another  tree,  and  the  valie  of  the 
betterments  can  be  left  out  to  men." 

"  I  am  the  proper  person  to  answer  this  proposal,"  I 
thought  it  now  right  to  say,  lest  Andries  and  Thousandacres 
should  get  to  loggerheads  again  on  some  minor  and  imma 
terial  point,  and  thus  endanger  every  hope  of  keeping  the 
peace  until  Malbone  could  arrive.  "  At  the  same  time,  I 
consider  it  no  more  than  right  to  tell  you,  at  once,  that  I 
have  no  power  that  goes  so  far  as  to  authorize  me  to  agree 
to  your  terms.  Both  colonel  Pollock  and  my  father  have  a 
stern  sense  of  justice,  and  neither,  in  my  opinion,  will  feel 
much  of  a  disposition  to  yield  to  any  conditions  that,  in  the 
least,  may  have  the  appearance  of  compromising  any  of 
their  rights  as  landlords.  I  have  heard  them  both  say  that, 
in  these  particulars,  '  yielding  an  inch  would  be  giving  an 
ell,'  and  I  confess  that,  from  all  I  have  seen  lately  of  settlers 
and  settlements,  I  'm  very  much  of  the  same  way  of  think 
ing.  My  principals  may  concede  something,  but  they'll 
never  treat  on  a  subject  of  which  all  the  right  is  on  their 
own  side." 

"  Am  I  to  understand  you,  young  man,  that  you  're  on- 
accommodatin',  and  that  my  offers  isn't  to  be  listened  to,  in 
the  spirit  in  which  they  're  made  ?"  demanded  Thousand- 
acres,  somewhat  drily. 

"  You  are  to  understand  me  as  meaning  exactly  what  I 
say,  sir.  In  the  first  place,  I  have  no  authority  to  accept 
your  offers,  and  shall  not  assume  any,  let  the  consequences 
to  myself  be  what  they  may.  Indeed,  any  promises  made 
in  duresse  are  good  for  nothing." 

"  Anan !"  cried  the  squatter.  "  This  is  Mooseridgff 
Patent,  and  Washington,  late  Charlotte  County — and  this 
is  the  place  we  are  to  sign  and  seal  in,  if  writin's  pass 
atween  us." 

"  By  promises  made  in  duresse,  I  mean  promises  made 
while  the  party  making  them  is  in  confinement,  or  not 
absolutely  free  to  make  them,  or  not ;  such  promises  are 
good  for  nothing  in  law,  even  though  all  the  *  writings'  that 
could  be  drawn  passed  between  the  parties.' 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  353 

"  This  is  strange  doctrine,  and  says  but  little  for  your 
boasted  law,  then  !  At  one  time,  it  asks  for  writin's,  and 
nothin'  but  writin's  will  answer ;  and,  then,  all  the  writin's 
on  'arth  be  of  no  account !  Yet  some  folks  complain,  and 
have  hard  feelin's,  if  a  man  wunt  live  altogether  up  to 
law !" 

"  I  rather  think,  Thousandacres,  you  overlook  the  objects 
of  the  law,  in  its  naked  regulations.  Law  is  to  enforce  the 
right,  and  were  it  to  follow  naked  rules,  without  regard  to 
principles,  it  might  become  the  instrument  of  effecting  the 
very  mischiefs  it  is  designed  to  counteract." 

I  might  have  spared  myself  the  trouble  of  uttering  this 
fine  speech  ;  which  caused  the  old  squatter  to  stare  at  me  in 
wonder,  and  produced  a  smile  among  the  young  men,  and  a 
titter  among  the  females.  I  observed,  however,  that  the 
anxious  face  of  Lowiny  expressed  admiration,  rather  than 
the  feeling  that  was  so  prevalent  among  the  sisterhood. 

"  There 's  no  use  in  talkin'  to  this  young  spark,  Chain- 
bearer,"  Thousandacres  said,  a  little  impatiently  in  the  way 
of  manner,  too  ;  "  he  's  passed  his  days  in  the  open  coun 
try,  and  has  got  open-country  ways,  and  notions,  and  talk; 
and  them 's  things  I  don't  pretend  to  understand.  You  're 
woods,  mainly;  he's  open  country;  and  I'm  clearin'. 
There 's  a  difference  atween  each  ;  but  woods  and  clearin' 
come  clussest ;  and  so  I  '11  say  my  say  to  you.  Be  you, 
now,  r'ally  disposed  to  accommodate,  or  not,  old  Andries'?" 

"Anyt'ing  t'at  ist  right,  ant  just,  ant  reasonaple,  T'CHI- 
santacres ;  ant  nut'in'  t'at  ist  not." 

"  That 's  just  my  way  of  thinkin' !  If  the  law,  now, 
would  do  as  much  as  that  for  a  man,  the  attorneys  would 
soon  starve.  Wa-a-1,  we  '11  try  now  to  come  to  tarms,  as  soon 
as  possible.  You  're  a  single  man,  I  know,  Chainbearer  ; 
but  I  've  always  supposed  't  was  on  account  of  no  dislike  to 
the  married  state ;  but  because  you  didn't  chance  to  light  on 
the  right  gal ;  or  maybe  on  account  of  the  surveyin'  prin 
ciple,  which  keeps  a  man  pretty  much  movin'  about  from 
tract  to  tract ;  though  not  much  more  than  squattin'  doos, 
neither,  if  the  matter  was  inquired  into." 

I  understood  the  object  of  this  sudden  change  from  fee- 
simples,  and  possessions,  and  the  *  accommodatin'  spirit,'  to 
matrimony ;  but  Chainbearer  did  not.  He  only  looked  his 
30* 


354  THE     CHAIN  BEARER. 

surprise ;  while,  as  to  myself,  if  I  looked  at  all  as  I  felt,  1 
must  have  been  the  picture  of*  uneasiness.  The  beloved, 
unconscious  Dus,  sat  there  in  her  maiden  beauty,  interested 
and  anxious  in  her  mind,  beyond  all  question,  but  totally 
ignorant  of  the  terrible  blow  that  was  meditated  against 
herself.  As  Andries  looked  his  desire  to  hear  more,  instead 
of  answering  the  strange  remark  he  had  just  heard,  Thou- 
sandacres  proceeded — 

"  It 's  quite  nat'ral  to  think  of  matrimony  afore  so  many 
young  folks,  isn't  it,  Chainbearer  ?"  added  the  squatter, 
chuckling  at  his  own  conceits.  "  Here  's  lots  of  b'ys  and 
gals  about  me ;  and  I  'm  just  as  accommodatin'  in  findin 
husbands  or  wives  for  my  fri'nds  and  neighbours,  as  I  am 
in  settlin'  all  other  difficulties.  Anything  for  peace  and  a 
good  neighbourhood  is  my  religion !" 

Old  Andries  passed  a  hand  over  his  eyes,  in  the  way  one 
is  apt  to  do  when  he  wishes  to  aid  a  mental  effort  by  exter 
nal  application.  It  was  evident  he  was  puzzled  to  find  out 
what  the  squatter  would  be  at,  though  he  soon  put  a  question 
that  brought  about  something  like  an  explanation. 

"  I  ton't  unterstant  you,  T'ousantacres  ; — no,  I  ton't  un- 
derstant  you.  Is  it  your  tesire  to  gif  me  one  of  your  puxom 
ant  fine-lookin'  gals,  here,  for  a  wife  ?" 

The  squatter  laughed  heartily  at  this  notion,  the  young 
men  joining  in  the  mirth ;  while  the  constant  titter  that  the 
females  had  kept  up  ever  since  the  subject  of  matrimony 
was  introduced,  was  greatly  augmented  in  zest.  An  indif 
ferent  spectator  would  have  supposed  that  the  utmost  good 
feeling  prevailed  among  us. 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Chainbearer,  if  you  can  persuade 
any  of  the  gals  to  have  you !"  cried  Thousandacres,  with 
the  most  apparent  acquiescence.  "  With  such  a  son-in-law, 
I  don't  know  but  I  should  take  to  the  chain,  a'ter  all,  and 
measure  out  my  clearin's  as  well  as  the  grandee  farmers, 
who  take  pride  in  knowin'  where  their  lines  be.  There  's 
Lowiny,  she 's  got  no  spark,  and  might  suit  you  well  enough, 
if  she'd  only  think  so." 

"  Lowiny  don't  think  any  sich  thing ;  and  isn't  likely  to 
think  any  sich  thing,"  answered  the  girl,  in  a  quick,  irri 
tated  manner. 

«  Wa-a-1, 1  do  s'pose,  a'ter  all,  Chainbearer,"  Thouswid 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  353 

acres  resumed,  "  we'll  get  no  weddin'  out  of  you.  Three 
score  and  ten  is  somewhat  late  for  takin'  a  first  wife  ;  though 
I  've  known  widowers  marry  ag'in  when  hard  on  upon 
ninety.  When  a  man  has  taken  one  wife  in  'arly  life,  he 
has  a  kind  o'  right  to  another  in  old  age." 

"  Yes — yes — or  a  hundred  either,"  put  in  Prudence,  with 
spirit.  "  Give  'em  a  chance  only,  and  they  '11  find  wives 
as  long  as  they  can  find  breath  to  ask  women  to  have  'em ! 
Gals,  you  may  make  up  your  minds  to  that — no  man  will 
mourn  long  for  any  on  you,  a'ter  you  're  once  dead  and 
buried." 

I  should  think  this  little  sally  must  have  been  somewhat 
common,  as  neither  the  "  b'ys"  nor  the  "  gals"  appeared  to 
give  it  much  attention.  These  matrimonial  insinuations 
occur  frequently  in  the  world,  and  Prudence  was  not  the 
first  woman,  by  a  million,  who  had  ventured  to  make  them. 

"  I  will  own  I  was  not  so  much  thinkin'  of  providin'  a 
wife  for  you,  Chainbearer,  as  I  was  thinkin'  of  providin'  one 
for  a  son  of  mine,"  continued  Thousandacres.  "  Here 's 
Zephaniah,  now,  is  as  active  and  hard-workin',  upright,  ho 
nest  and  obedient  a  young  man  as  can  be  found  in  this 
country.  He 's  of  suitable  age,  and  begins  to  think  of  a 
wife.  I  tell  him  to  marry,  by  all  means,  for  it 's  the  bless- 
edest  condition  of  life,  is  the  married  state,  that  man  ever 
entered  into.  You  wouldn't  think  it,  perhaps,  on  lookin'  at 
old  Prudence,  there,  and  beholdin'  what  she  now  is ;  but  I 
speak  from  exper'ence  in  recommendin'  matrimony ;  and  I 
wouldn't,  on  no  account,  say  what  I  didn't  really  think  in 
the  matter.  A  little  matrimony  might  settle  all  our  diffi 
culties,  Chainbearer." 

"  You  surely  do  not  expect  me  to  marry  your  son  Zepa- 
niah,  I  must  s'pose,  T'ousantacres !"  answered  Andries,  in 
nocently. 

The  laugh,  this  time,  was  neither  as  loud  nor  as  general 
as  before,  intense  expectation  rendering  the  auditors  grave. 

"  No,  no ;  "I  '11  excuse  you  from  that,  of  a  sartainty,  old 
Andries;  though  you  may  have  Lowiny,  if  you  can  only 
prevail  on  the  gal.  But,  speakin'  of  Zephaniah,  I  can  r'ally 
ricommend  the  young  man  ;  a  thing  I  'd  never  do  if  he  didn't 
desarve  it,  though  he  is  my  son.  No  one  can  say  that  I  'm 
in  the  habit  of  ever  ricommendin'  my  own  things,  evf  a  to 


356  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

the  boards.  The  lumber  of  Thousandacres  is  as  well  known 
in  all  the  markets  below,  they  tell  me,  as  the  flour  of  any 
miller  in  the  highest  credit.  It 's  just  so  with  the  b'ys  ,  bet- 
ter  lads  is  not  to  be  met  with  ;  and  I  can  ricommend  Zepha- 
niah  with  just  as  much  confidence  as  I  could  ricommend 
any  lot  of  boards  I  ever  rafted." 

"  And  what  haf  I  to  do  wit'  all  t'is  ?"  asked  Chainbearer, 
gravely. 

"  Why,  the  matter  is  here,  Chainbearer,  if  you  '11  only 
look  a  little  into  it.  There 's  difficulty  atween  us,  and  pretty 
serious  difficulty,  too.  In  me  the  accommodatin'  spirit  is 
up,  as  I  've  said  afore,  and  am  willin'  to  say  ag'in.  Now, 
I  've  my  son  Zeph,  here,  as  I  've  said,  and  he 's  lookin' 
about  for  a  wife ;  and  you  've  a  niece  here — Dus  Malbone, 
I  s'pose  is  her  name — and  they'd  just  suit  each  other.  It 
seems,  they  're  acquainted  somewhat,  and  have  kept  com 
pany  some  time  already,  and  that  '11  make  things  smooth. 
Now,  what  I  offer  is  just  this,  and  no  more ;  not  a  bit  of  it. 
I  offer  to  send  off  for  a  magistrate,  and  I  '11  do 't  at  my  own 
expense ;  it  shan't  cost  you  a  farthin' ;  and,  as  soon  as  the 
magistrate  comes,  we  '11  have  the  young  folks  married  on 
the  spot,  and  that  will  make  etarnal  peace  for  ever,  as  you 
must  suppose,  atween  you  and  me.  Wa-a-1,  peace  made 
atween  us,  'twill  leave  but  little  to  accommodate  with  the 
writin'  owners  of  the  sile,  seein'  that  you  're  on  tarms  with 
'em  all,  that  a  body  may  set  you  down  all  as  one  as  bein'  of 
the  same  family,  like.  If  gin'ral  Littlepage  makes  a  p'int  of 
any  thing  of  the  sort,  I  '11  engage  no  one  of  my  family,  in 
all  futur'  time,  shall  ever  squat  on  any  lands  he  may  hap 
pen  to  lay  claim  to,  whether  he  owns  'em  or  not." 

I  saw  quite  plainly  that,  at  first,  Chainbearer  did  not  fully 
comprehend  the  nature  of  the  squatter's  proposal.  Neither 
did  Dus,  herself;  though  somewhat  prepared  for  such  a 
thing  by  her  knowledge  of  Zephaniah's  extravagant  wishes 
on  the  subject.  But,  when  Thousandacres  spoke  plainly  of 
sending  for  a  magistrate,  and  of  having  the  "  young  folks 
married  on  the  spot,"  it  was  not  easy  to  mistake  his  mean 
ing,  and  astonishment  was  soon  succeeded  by  offended  pride, 
in  the  breast  of  old  Andries,  and  that  to  a  degree  and  in  a 
manner  I  had  never  before  witnessed  in  him.  Perhaps  I 
ought,  in  justice  to  my  excellent  friend,  to  add,  that  his  high 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  357 

principles  and  keen  sense  of  right,  were  quite  as  much 
wounded  by  the  strange  proposal  as  his  personal  feelings. 
It  was  some  time  before  he  could  or  would  speak ;  when  he 
did,  it  was  with  a  dignity  and  severity  of  manner  which  I 
really  had  no  idea  he  could  assume.  The  thought  of  Ursula 
Malbone's  being  sacrificed  to  such  a  being  as  Zephaniah, 
and  such  a  family  as  the  squatter's,  shocked  all  his  sensibili 
ties,  and  appeared,  for  a  moment,  to  overcome  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  nothing  was  plainer  than  that  the  breed  of  Thou- 
sandacres  saw  no  such  violation  of  the  proprieties  in  their 
scheme.  The  vulgar,  almost  invariably,  in  this  country, 
reduce  the  standard  of  distinction  to  mere  money ;  and,  in 
this  respect  they  saw,  or  fancied  they  saw,  that  Dus  was 
not  much  better  off  than  they  were  themselves.  All  those 
points  which  depended  on  taste,  refinement,  education,  habits 
and  principles,  were  Hebrew  to  them ;  and,  quite  as  a  mat 
ter  of  course,  they  took  no  account  of  qualities  they  could 
neither  see  nor  comprehend.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore, 
that  they  could  imagine  the  young  squatter  might  make  a 
suitable  husband  to  one  who  was  known  to  have  carried 
chain  in  the  forest. 

"  I  pelieve  I  do  pegin  to  unterstant  you,  T'ousantacres," 
said  the  Chainbearer,  rising  from  his  chair,  and  moving  to 
the  side  of  his  niece,  as  if  instinctively  to  protect  her; 
"  t'ough  it  ist  not  a  fery  easy  t'ing  to  comprehent  such  a 
proposal.  You  wish  Ursula  Mai  pone  to  pecome  t'e  wife  of 
Zephaniah  T'ousantacres,  ant  t'ereupon  you  wish  to  patch 
up  a  peace  wit'  General  Littlepage  and  Colonel  Pollock,  ant 
optain  an  intemnity  for  all  t'e  wrong  ant  roppery  you  haf 
done  'em — " 

"  Harkee,  old  Chainbearer ;  you  'd  best  be  kearful  of 
your  language — " 

"  Hear  what  t'at  language  ist  to  pe,  pefore  you  interrupt 
me,  T'ousantacres.  A  wise  man  listens  pefore  he  answers. 
Alt'ough  I  haf  nefer  peen  marriet,  myself,  I  know  what  ist 
tecent  in  pehaviour,  ant,  t'erefore,  I  wilt  t'ank  you  for  t'e 
wish  of  pein'  connectet  wit'  t'e  Coejemans  ant  t'e  Malpones. 
T'at  tuty  tone,  I  wish  to  say  t'at  my  niece  wilt  not  haf  your 
poy— " 

"  You  haven't  given  the  gal  a  chance  to  speak  for  her- 
telf,"  cried  Thousandacres,  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  for  he 


358  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

began  to  be  agitated  DOW  with  a  fury  that  found  a  little  vent 
in  that  manner.  "  You  haven't  given  the  gal  a  chance  to 
answer  for  herself,  old  Andries.  Zeph  is  a  lad  that  she 
may  go  farther  and  fare  worse,  afore  she'll  meet  his  equal, 
I  can  tell  you,  though  perhaps,  bein'  the  b'y's  own  father,  I 
shouldn't  say  it — but,  in  the  way  of  accommodating  I  'm 
will  in'  to  overlook  a  great  deal." 

"  Zephaniah  's  an  excellent  son,"  put  in  Prudence,  in  the 
pride  and  feeling  of  a  mother,  nature  having  its  triumph  in 
her  breast  as  well  as  in  that  of  the  most  cultivated  woman 
of  the  land.  "  Of  all  my  sons,  Zephaniah  is  the  best ;  and 
I  account  him  fit  to  marry  with  any  who  don't  live  in  the 
open  country,  and  with  many  that  do." 

"  Praise  your  goots,  ant  extol  your  poy,  if  you  see  fit," 
answered  Chainbearer,  with  a  calmness  that  I  knew  bespoke 
some  desperate  resolution.  "  Praise  your  goots,  ant  extol 
your  poy ;  I  Ml  not  teny  your  right  to  do  as  much  of  t'at  as 
you  wish  ;  put  t'is  gal  wast  left  me  py  an  only  sister  on  her 
tyin'  pet,  ant  may  Got  forget  me,  when  I  forget  the  tuty  I 
owe  to  her.  She  shall  nefer  marry  a  son  of  T'ousantacres 
— she  shalt  nefer  marry  a  squatter — she  shalt  nefer  marry 
any  man  t'at  ist  not  of  a  class,  ant  feelin's,  ant  hapits,  ant 
opinions,  fit  to  pe  t'e  huspant  of  a  laty !" 

A  sjiout  of  derision,  in  which  was  blended  the  fierce 
resentment  of  mortified  pride,  arose  among  that  rude  crew, 
but  the  thundering  voice  of  Thousandacres  made  itself 
audible,  even  amid  the  hellish  din. 

"  Beware,  Chainbearer  ;  beware  how  you  aggravate  us ; 
natur'  cant  and  won't  bear  every  thing." 

"I  want  nut'in'  of  you,  or  yours,  T'ousantacres,"  calmly 
returned  the  old  man,  passing  his  arm  around  the  waist  of 
Dus,  who  clung  to  him,  with  a  cheek  that  was  flushed  to 
fire,  but  an  eye  that  was  not  accustomed  to  quail,  and  who 
seemed,  at  that  fearful  moment,  every  way  ready  and  able 
to  second  her  uncle's  efforts.  "  You  're  nut'in'  to  me,  ant 
I  '11  leaf  you  here,  in  your  misteets  ant  wicket  t'oughts. 
Stant  asite,  I  orter  you.  Do  not  tare  to  stop  t'e  brot'er  who 
is  apout  to  safe  his  sister's  da'ghter  from  pecomin'  a  squat 
ter's  wife.  Stant  asite,  for  I  '11  stay  wit'  you  no  longer. 
An  hour  or  two  hence,  miseraple  Aaron,  you  '11  see  t'e 
folly  of  all  t'is,  ant  wish  you  hat  livet  an  honest  man. " 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  359 

By  this  time  the  clamour  of  voices  became  so  loud  and 
confused,  as  to  render  it  impossible  to  distinguish  what  was 
said.  Thousandacres  actually  roared  like  a  maddened  bull, 
and  he  was  soon  hoarse  with  uttering  his  menaces  and  male 
dictions.  Tobit  said  less,  but  was  probably  more  dangerous. 
All  the  young  men  seemed  violently  agitated,  and  bent  on 
closing  the  door  on  the  exit  of  the  Chainbearer ;  who,  with 
his  arm  around  Dus,  still  slowly  advanced,  waving  the 
crowd  aside,  and  commanding  them  to  make  way  for  him, 
with  a  steadiness  and  dignity  that  I  began  to  think  would 
really  prevail.  In  the  midst  of  this  scene  of  confusion,  a 
rifle  suddenly  flashed ;  the  report  was  simultaneous,  and  old 
Andries  Coejemans  fell. 


CHAPTEK  XXVI. 

**  Ye  midnight  shades,  o'er  nature  spread ! 

Dumb  silence  of  the  dreary  hour! 
In  honour  of  th'  approaching  dead, 
Around  your  awful  terrors  pour. 
Yes,  pour  around, 
On  this  pale  ground, 

Through  all  this  deep  surrounding  gloom, 
The  sober  thought, 
The  tear  untaught, 
Those  meetest  mourners  at  a  tomb." 

MALLET. 

IT  is  a  law  of  human  nature,  that  the  excesses  of  passion 
bring  their  own  rebukes.  The  violence  of  man  feeds  itself, 
until  some  enormity  committed  under  its  influence  suddenly 
rises  before  the  transgressor,  as  the  evidence  of  his  blind 
ness  and  the  restorer  of  his  senses.  Guilt  performs  the 
office  of  reason,  staying  the  hand,  stilling  the  pulses,  and 
arousing  the  conscience. 

Thus  it  seemed  to  be  with  the  squatters  of  Mooseridge. 
A  stillness  so  profound  succeeded  the  crack  of  that  rifle, 
that  I  heard  the  stifled  breathing  of  Dus,  as  she  stood  over 
the  body  of  her  uncle,  astounded,  and  almost  converted  into 
a  itatue  by  the  suddenness  of  the  blow.  No  one  spoke ;  no 


360  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

one  attempted  to  quit  the  place ;  in  fact,  no  one  moved.  It 
was  never  known  who  fired  that  shot.  At  first  I  ascribed  it 
to  the  hand  of  Tobit ;  but  it  was  owing  more  to  what  I  knew 
of  his  temper  and  character,  than  to  what  I  knew  of  his 
acts  at  that  particular  time.  Afterwards,  I  inclined  to  the 
opinion  that  my  friend  had  fallen  by  the  hand  of  Thousand- 
acres  himself;  though  there  were  no  means  of  bringing  it 
home  to  him  by  legal  proof.  If  any  knew  who  was  the 
criminal,  besides  the  wretch  who  executed  the  deed,  the  fact 
was  never  reveled.  That  family  was  faithful  to  itself,  and 
seemed  determined  to  stand  or  fall  together.  In  the  eye  of 
the  law,  all  who  were  present,  aiding  and  abetting  in  the 
unlawful  detention  of  Dus  and  her  uncle,  were  equally 
guilty ;  but  the  hand  on  which  the  stain  of  blood  rested  in 
particular,  was  never  dragged  to  light. 

My  first  impulse,  as  soon  as  I  could  recollect  myself,  was 
to  pass  an  arm  around  the  waist  of  Dus  and  force  her 
through  the  crowd,  with  a  view  to  escape.  Had  this  attempt 
been  persevered  in,  I  think  it  would  have  succeeded,  so  pro 
found  was  the  sensation  made,  even  upon  those  rude  and 
lawless  men,  by  the  deed  of  violence  that  had  just  been 
done.  But  Dus  was  not  one  to  think  of  self  at  such  a 
moment.  For  a  single  instant  her  head  fell  on  my  shoulders, 
and  I  held  her  to  my  bosom,  while  I  whispered  my  wish  for 
her  to  fly.  Then  raising  her  head,  she  gently  extricated 
her  person  from  my  arms,  and  knelt  by  the  side  of  her 
uncle. 

"  He  breathes  !"  she  said  huskily,  but  hastily.  "  God  be 
praised,  Mordaunt,  he  still  breathes.  The  blow  may  not  be 
as  heavy  as  we  at  first  supposed ;  let  us  do  what  we  can  to 
aid  him." 

Here  were  the  characteristic  decision  and  thoughtfulness 
of  Ursula  Malbone !  Rising  quickly,  she  turned  to  the 
group  of  silent  but  observant  squatters,  and  appealed  to  any 
remains  of  humanity  that  might  still  be  found  in  their 
bosoms,  to  lend  their  assistance.  Thousandacres  stood  fore 
most  in  the  dark  cluster  at  the  door,  looking  grimly  at  the 
motionless  body,  over  which  Dus  stood,  pale  and  heart- 
stricken,  but  still  calm  and  collected. 

"  The  hardest-hearted  man  among  you  will  not  deny  a 
daughter's  right  to  administer  to  a  parent's  wants !"  sht 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  361 

said,  with  a  pathos  in  her  voice,  and  a  dignity  in  her  manner, 
that  filled  me  with  love  and  admiration,  and  wliich  had  a 
visible  effect  on  all  who  heard  ner.  "  Help  me  to  raise  my 
uncle  and  to  place  him  on  a  bed,  while  Major  Littlepage 
examines  his  hurt.  You  '11  not  deny  me  this  little  comfort, 
Thousandacres,  for  you  cannot  know  how  soon  you  may 
v/ant  succour  yourself!" 

Zephaniah,  who  certainly  had  no  hand  in  the  murder  of 
Chainbearer,  now  advanced  j  and  he,  myself,  Lowiny  and 
Dus,  raised  the  still  motionless  body,  and  placed  it  on  the 
bed  of  Prudence,  which  stood  in  the  principal  room.  There 
was  a  consultation  among  the  squatters,  while  we  were  thus 
employed,  and  one  by  one  the  family  dropped  off,  until  no 
one  was  left  in  the  house  but  Thousandacres,  and  his  wife, 
and  Lowiny  ;  the  latter  remaining  with  Dus,  as  a  useful  and 
even  an  affectionate  assistant.  The  father  sate,  in  moody 
silence,  on  one  side  of  the  fire,  while  Prudence  placed  her 
self  on  the  other.  I  did  not  like  the  aspect  of  the  squatter's 
countenance,  but  he  said  and  did  nothing.  It  struck  me  that 
he  was  brooding  over  the  facts,  nursing  his  resentments  by 
calling  up  fancied  wrongs  to  his  mind,  and  plotting  for  the 
future.  If  such  was  the  Case,  he  manifested  great  nerve, 
inasmuch  as  neither  alarm  nor  hurry  was,  in  the  slightest 
degree,  apparent  in  his  mien.  Prudence  was  dreadfully 
agitated.  She  said  nothing,  but  her  body  worked  to  and  fro 
with  nervous  excitement ;  and  occasionally  a  heavy,  but 
suppressed  groan  struggled  through  her  efforts  to  resist  it. 
Otherwise,  she  was  as  if  not  present. 

I  had  been  accustomed  to  seeing  gun-shot  wounds,  and 
possessed  such  a  general  knowledge  of  their  effects  as  to 
be  a  tolerable  judge  of  what  would,  and  what  would  not,  be 
likely  to  prove  fatal.  The  first  look  I  took  at  the  hurt  of 
Chainbearer  convinced  me  there  could  be  no  hope  for  his 
life.  The  ball  had  passed  between  two  of  the  ribs,  and 
seemed  to  me  to  take  a  direction  downwards ;  but  it  was 
impossible  to  miss  the  vitals  with  a  wound  commencing  at 
that  point  on  the  human  body.  The  first  shock  of  the  injury 
had  produced  insensibility ;  but  we  had  hardly  got  the  suf 
ferer  on  the  bed,  and  applied  a  little  water  to  his  lips,  ere  he 
revived ;  soon  regaining  his  consciousness,  as  well  as  the 
power  to  speak.  Death  was  on  him,  however ;  and  it  was 
31 


362  THE    GH  A  IN  BEAKER. 

very  obvious  to  me  that  his  hours  were  numbered.  He 
might  live  days,  but  it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  sur 
vive. 

"Got  pless  you,  Mortaunt,"  my  old  friend  murmured, 
after  my  efforts  had  thus  partially  succeeded.  "  Got  for 
ever  pless  ant  preserf  you,  poy,  ant  repay  you  for  all  your 
kintness  to  me  ant  mine.  T'em  squatters  haf  killet  me,  lat ; 
put  I  forgif  t'em.  T'ey  are  an  ignorant,  ant  selfish,  and 
prutal  preed ;  ant  I  may  haf  triet  'em  too  sorely.  Put  Dus 
can  never  pecome  t'e  wife  of  any  of  t'e  family." 

As  Zephaniah  was  in  the  room,  though  not  near  the  bed 
at  the  moment,  I  was  anxious  to  change  the  current  of  the 
wounded  man's  thoughts ;  and  I  questioned  him  as  to  the 
nature  of  his  hurt,  well  knowing  that  Chainbearer  had  seen 
so  many  soldiers  in  situations  similar  to  his  own  unhappy 
condition,  as  to  be  a  tolerable  judge  of  his  actual  state. 

"  I  'm  killet,  Mortaunt,"  old  Andries  answered,  in  a  tone 
even  firmer  than  that  in  which  he  had  just  spoken.  "Apout 
t'at,  t'ere  can  pe  no  mistake.  T'ey  haf  shot  t'rough  my 
rips,  ant  t'rough  my  vitals  ;  ant  life  is  impossible.  But  t'at 
does  not  matter  much  to  me,  for  I  am  an  olt  man  now,  haf- 
in'  lifet  my  t'ree-score  years  ant  ten — no,  t'at  is  no  great 
matter,  t'ough  some  olt  people  cling  to  life  wit'  a  tighter  grip 
t'an  t'e  young.  Such  ist  not  my  case,  howsefer ;  ant  I  am 
reaty  to  march  when  t'e  great  wort  of  commant  comet'.  I 
am  fery  sorry,  Mortaunt,  t'at  t'is  accitent  shoult  happen 
pefore  t'e  patent  hast  peen  fully  surfeyet ;  put  I  am  not  pait 
for  t'e  work  t'at  is  finishet,  ant  it  ist  a  great  comfort  to  me 
to  know  I  shall  not  tie  in  tebt.  I  owe  you,  ant  I  owe  my 
goot  frient'  t'e  general,  a  great  teal  for  kintnesses,  I  must 
confess ;  put,  in  t'e  way  of  money,  t'ere  wilt  be  no  loss  by 
t'is  accitent." 

"  Mention  nothing  of  this  sort,  I  do  entreat  of  you, 
Chainbearer  ,•  I  know  my  father  would  gladly  give  the  best 
farm  he  owns  to  see  you  standing,  erect  and  well,  as  you 
were  twenty  minutes  since." 

"  Well,  I  tares  to  say,  t'at  may  be  true,  for  I  haf  always 
fount  t'e  general  to  pe  friently  and  consiterate.  I  wilt  tell 
you  a  secret,  Mortaunt,  t'at  I  haf  nefer  pefore  revealet  to 
mortal  man,  put  which  t'ere  ist  no  great  use  in  keepin'  any 
longer,  ant  which  I  shoult  have  peen  willing  to  haf  tolt 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  363 

long  ago,  hat  not  t'e  general  himself  mate  it  a  p'int  t'at  I 
shoult  not  speak  of  it — " 

"  Perhaps  it  might  be  better,  my  good  friend,  were  you 
to  tell  me  this  secret  another  time.  Talking  may  weary 
and  excite  you  ;  whereas,  sleep  and  rest  may  possibly  do 
you  service." 

"  No,  no,  poy — t'e  hope  of  t'at  ist  all  itleness  ant  vanity. 
I  shalt  nefer  sleep  ag'in,  tilt  I  sleep  t'e  last  long  sleep  of 
teat' ;  I  feelt  sartain  my  wount  ist  mortal,  and  t'at  my  time 
must  soon  come.  Nefert'eless,  it  doesn't  gif  me  pain  to 
talk  ;  and,  Mortaunt,  my  tear  lat,  fri'nts  t'at  pe  apout  to 
part  for  so  long  a  time,  ought  not  to  part  wit'out  sayin'  a 
wort  to  one  anot'er  pefore  separation.  I  shoult  pe  glat,  in 
partic'lar,  to  telt  to  a  son  all  t'e  kintness  and  fri'ntship  I 
have  receivet  from  his  fat'er.  You  know  fery  well,  your 
self,  Mortaunt,  t'at  I  am  not  great  at  figures ;  and  why  it 
shoult  pe  so,  ist  a  wonter  ant  a  surprise  to  me,  for  my 
grantfat'er  Van  Syce  was  a  wonterful  man  at  arit'metic, 
and  t'e  first  Cojemans  in  t'is  country,  t'ey  say,  kept  all  t'e 
tominie's  accounts  for  him !  Put,  let  t'at  pe  ast  it  wast,  I 
nefer  coult  do  any  t'ing  wit'  figures ;  ant,  it  ist  a  secret  not 
to  pe  concealet  now,  Mortaunt,  t'at  I  nefer  coult  haf  helt 
my  commission  of  captain  six  weeks,  put  for  your  own 
fat'er's  kintness  to  me.  Fintin'  out  how  impossible  it  wast 
for  me  to  get  along  wit'  arit'metic,  he  offeret  to  do  all  t'at 
sort  of  tuty  for  me,  ant  t'e  whole  time  we  wast  toget'er, 
seven  long  years  ant  more,  Colonel  Littlepage  mate  out  t'e 
reports  of  Cojeman's  company.  Capital  goot  reports  was 
t'ey,  too,  and  t'e  atmiration  of  all  t'at  see  t'em ;  and  I  often 
felt  ashamet  like,  when  I  he'rt  t'em  praiset,  and  people  won- 
terin'  how  an  olt  Tutchman  ever  1'arnet  to  do  his  tuty  so 
well  !  I  shalt  nefer  see  t'e  general  ag'in,  ant  I  wish  you  to 
tell  him  t'at  Andries  tit  not  forget  his  gootness  to  him,  to 
t'e  latest  preat  t'at  he  trew." 

"  I  will  do  all  you  ask  of  me,  Chainbearer — surely  it 
must  give  you  pain  to  talk  so  much  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,  poy  ; — not  at  all.  It  is  goot  to  t'e  poty  to 
lighten  t'e  soul  of  its  opligations.  Ast  I  see,  howsefer, 
t'at  Dus  ist  trouplet,  I  wilt  shut  my  eyes,  ant  look  into  my 
own  t'oughts  a  little,  for  I  may  not  tie  for  some  hours 
yet." 


364  THE     CIIAINBEARER. 

It  sounded  fearful  to  me  to  hear  one  I  loved  so  well  speak 
BO  calmly,  and  with  so  much  certainty  of  his  approaching 
end.  I  could  see  that  Ursula  almost  writhed  under  the 
agony  these  words  produced  in  her ;  yet  that  noble-minded 
creature  wore  an  air  of  calmness,  that  might  have  deceived 
one  who  knew  her  less  well  than  she  was  known  to  me. 
She  signed  for  me  to  quit  the  side  of  the  bed,  in  the  vain 
hope  that  her  uncle  might  fall  asleep,  and  placed  herself 
silently  on  a  chair,  at  hand,  in  readiness  to  attend  to  his 
wants.  As  for  me,  I  took  the  occasion  to  examine  the 
state  of  things  without,  and  to  reflect  on  what  course  I 
ought  to  take,  in  the  novel  and  desperate  circumstances  in 
which  we  were  so  unexpectedly  placed  :  the  time  for  some 
thing  decisive  having  certainly  arrived. 

It  was  now  near  an  hour  after  the  deed  had  been  done 
— and  there  sat  Thousandacres  and  his  wife,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  fire,  in  silent  thought.  As  I  turned  to  look  at 
the  squatters,  and  the  father  of  squatters,  I  saw  that  his 
countenance  was  set  in  that  species  of  sullen  moodiness, 
which  might  well  be  taken  as  ominous  in  a  man  of  his 
looseness  of  principle  and  fierceness  of  temperament.  Nor 
had  the  nervous  twitchings  of  Prudence  ceased.  In  a  word, 
both  of  these  strange  beings  appeared  at  the  end  of  that 
hour  just  as  they  had  appeared  at  its  commencement.  It 
struck  me,  as  I  passed  them  in  moving  towards  the  door, 
that  there  was  even  a  sublimity  in  their  steadiness  in  guilt. 
I  ought,  however,  in  some  slight  degree  to  except  the  woman, 
whose  agitation  was  some  proof  that  she  repented  of  what 
had  been  done.  At  the  door,  itself,  I  found  no  one ;  but, 
two  or  three  of  the  young  men  were  talking  in  a  low  tone 
to  each  other  at  no  great  distance.  Apparently  they  had 
an  eye  to  what  was  going  on  within  the  building.  Still  no 
one  of  them  spoke  to  me,  and  I  began  to  think  that  the 
crime  already  committed  had  produced  such  a  shock,  that 
no  further  wrong  to  any  of  us  was  contemplated,  and  that 
I  might  consider  myself  at  liberty  to  do  and  act  as  I  saw 
fit.  A  twitch  at  my  sleeve,  however,  drew  my  look  aside, 
and  I  saw  Lowiny  cowering  within  the  shadows  of  the 
house,  seemingly  eager  to  attract  my  attention.  She  had 
been  absent  some  little  time,  and  had  probably  been  listen 
ing  to  the  discourse  of  those  without. 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  365 

"Don't  think  of  venturing  far  from  the  house,"  ihe  girl 
whispered.  u  The  evil  spirit  has  got  possession  of  Tobit ; 
and  he  has  just  sworn  the  same  grave  shall  hold  you,  and 
Chainbearer  and  Dus.  '  Graves  don't  turn  State's  evidence,' 
he  sa.vs.  I  never  know'd  him  to  be  so  awful  as  he  is  to 
night ;  though  he 's  dreadful  in  temper  when  anything  goes 
amiss." 

The  girl  glided  past  me  as  she  ceased  her  hurried  com 
munication,  and  the  next  instant  she  was  standing  quietly 
at  the  side  of  Dus,  in  readiness  to  offer  her  assistance  in  any 
necessary  office  for  the  s?ck.  I  saw  that  she  had  escaped 
notice,  and  then  reconnoitred  my  own  position  with  some 
little  care. 

By  this  time  the  night  had  got  to  be  quite  dark ;  and  it 
was  impossible  to  recognise  persons  at  the  distance  of  twenty 
feet.  It  is  true,  one  could  tell  a  man  from  a  stump  at  twice 
that  number  of  yards,  or  even  further ;  but  the  objects  of 
the  rude  clearing  began  to  be  confounded  together  in  a  way 
to  deprive  the  vision  of  much  of  its  customary  power.  That 
group  of  young  men,  as  1  suppose,  contained  the  formidable 
Tobit ;  but  I  could  be  by  no  means  certain  of  the  fact 
without  approaching  quite  near  to  it.  This  I  did  not  like  to 
do,  as  there  was  nothing  that  I  desired  particularly  to  say 
to  any  of  the  family  at  that  moment.  Could  they  have 
known  my  heart,  the  squatters  would  have  felt  no  uneasi 
ness  on  the  subject  of  my  escaping ;  for  were  Dus  quite  out 
of  the  question,  as  she  neither  was  nor  could  be,  it  would  be 
morally  impossible  for  me  to  desert  the  Chainbearer  in  his 
dying  moments.  Nevertheless,  Tobit  and  his  brethren  did 
not  know  this ;  and  it  might  be  dangerous  for  me  to  presume 
too  far  on  the  contrary  supposition. 

The  darkness  was  intensest  near  the  house,  as  a  matter 
of  course;  and  I  glided  along  close  to  the  walls  of  logs  until 
I  reached  an  angle  of  the  building,  thinking  the  movement 
might  be  unseen.  But  I  got  an  assurance  that  I  was  watched 
that  would  admit  of  no  question,  by  a  call  from  one  of  the 
young  men,  directing  me  not  to  turn  the  corner  or  to  go  out 
of  sight  in  any  direction,  at  the  peril  of  my  life.  This  was 
plain  speaking ;  and  it-induced  a  short  dialogue  between  us ; 
in  which  I  avowed  my  determination  not  to  desert  my 
friends — for  the  Chainbearer  would  probably  not  outlive  the 
31* 


366  THE     CHAIN  BE  A  HER. 

night — and  that  I  felt  no  apprehension  for  myself.  I  was 
heated  and  excited,  and  had  merely  left  the  house  for  air; 
if  they  offered  no  impediment  I  would  walk  to  and  fro  near 
them  for  a  few  minutes,  solely  with  a  view  to  refresh  my 
feverish  pulses ;  pledging  my  word  to  make  no  attempt  at 
escape.  This  explanation,  with  the  accompanying  assu 
rance,  seemed  to  satisfy  my  guard ;  and  I  was  quietly  per 
mitted  to  do  as  I  had  proposed. 

The  walk  I  selected  was  between  the  group  of  squatters 
and  the  house,  and  at  each  turn  it  necessarily  brought  ma 
close  to  the  young  men.  At  such  moments  I  profited  by 
my  position  to  look  in  through  the  door  of  the  dwelling  at 
the  motionless  form  of  Dus,  who  sat  at  the  bedside  of  her 
uncle  in  the  patient,  silent,  tender,  and  attentive  manner  of 
woman,  and  whom  I  could  plainly  see  in  thus  passing. 
Notwithstanding  the  fidelity  of  my  homage  to  my  mistress 
at  these  instants,  I  could  perceive  that  the  young  men  uni 
formly  suspended  the  low  dialogue  they  were  holding  toge 
ther,  as  I  approached  them,  and  as  uniformly  renewed  it  as 
I  moved  away.  This  induced  me  gradually  to  extend  my 
walk,  lengthening  it  a  little  on  each  end,  until  I  may  have 
gone  as  far  as  a  hundred  feet  on  each  side  of  the  group, 
which  I  took  for  the  centre.  To  have  gone  farther  would 
have  been  imprudent,  as  it  might  seem  preparatory  to  an 
attempt  at  escape,  and  to  a  consequent  violation  of  my  word. 

In  this  manner,  then,  I  may  have  made  eight  or  ten 
turns  in  as  many  minutes,  when  I  heard  a  low,  hissing  sound 
near  me,  while  at  the  extremity  of  one  of  my  short  pro 
menades.  A  stump  stood  there,  and  the  sound  came  from 
the  root  of  this  stump.  At  first  I  fancied  I  had  encroached 
on  the  domain  of  some  serpent ;  though  animals  of  that 
species,  which  would  be  likely  to  give  forth  such  a  menace, 
were  even  then  very  rare  among  us.  But  my  uncertainty 
was  soon  relieved. 

"  Why  you  no  stop  at  stump  ?"  said  Susquesus,  in  a  voice 
so  low  as  not  to  be  heard  at  the  distance  of  ten  feet,  while 
it  was  perfectly  distinct  and  not  in  a  whisper.  "  Got  sut'in* 
tell— slad  to  hear." 

"  Wait  until  I  can  make  one  or  two  more  turns ;  I  will 
come  back  in  a  moment,"  was  my  guarded  answer. 

Then  I  continued  my  march,  placing  myself  against  a 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  367 

stump  that  stood  at  the  other  end  of  my  walk,  remaining 
leaning  there  for  an  entire  minute  or  two,  when  I  returned, 
passing  the  young  men  as  before.  This  I  did  three  several 
times,  stopping  at  each  turn,  as  if  to  rest  or  to  reflect ;  and 
making  each  succeeding  halt  longer  than  the  ono  that  had 
preceded  it.  At  length  I  took  my  stand  against  the  very 
stump  that  concealed  the  Indian. 

"  How  came  you  here,  Susquesus  ?"  I  asked  ;  "  and  are 
you  armed?" 

"  Yes ;  got  good  rifle.  Chainbearer's  gun.  He  no  want 
him  any  longer,  eh  ?" 

"  You  know  then  what  has  happened  ?  Chainbearer  is 
mortally  wounded." 

"  Dat  bad — must  take  scalp  to  pay  for  dat !  Ole  fri'nd — 
good  fri'nd.  Always  kill  murderer." 

"  I  beg  nothing  of  the  sort  will  be  attempted ;  but  how 
came  you  here  1 — and  how  came  you  armed  ?" 

"Jaap  do  him  —  come  and  break  open  door.  Nigger 
strong — do  what  he  like  to.  Bring  rifle — say  take  him. 
Wish  he  come  sooner — den  Chainbearer  no  get.  kill.  We 
see !" 

I  thought  it  prudent  to  move  on  by  the  time  this  was  said  ; 
and  I  made  a  turn  or  two  ere  I  was  disposed  to  come  to  an 
other  halt.  The  truth,  however,  was  now  apparent  to  me. 
Jaap  had  come  in  from  the  forest,  forced  the  fastenings  of 
the  Onondago's  prison,  given  him  arms,  and  they  were  both 
out  in  the  darkness,  prowling  round  the  buildings,  watching 
for  the  moment  to  strike  a  blow,  or  an  opportunity  to  com 
municate  with  me.  How  they  had  ascertained  the  fact  of 
Chainbearer's  being  shot,  I  was  left  to  conjecture;  though 
Susquesus  must  have  heard  the  report  of  the  rifle;  and  an 
Indian,  on  such  a  night  as  that,  left  to  pursue  his  own  course, 
would  soon  ascertain  all  the  leading  points  of  any  circum 
stance  in  which  he  felt  an  interest. 

My  brain  was  in  a  whirl  as  all  these  details  presented 
themselves  to  my  mind,  and' I  was  greatly  at  a  loss  to  decide 
on  my  course.  In  order  to  gain  time  for  reflection,  I  stopped 
a  moment  at  the  stump,  and  whispered  to  the  Onondago  a 
request,  that  he  would  remain  where  he  was  until  I  could 
give  him  his  orders.  An  expressive  "  good"  was  the  an 
swer  I  received ;  and  I  observed  that  the  Indian  crouched 


368  THE     CHAIN  BEARER, 

lower  in  his  lair,  like  some  fierce  animal  of  the  woods,  that 
restrained  his  impatience,  in  order  to  make  his  leap,  when 
it  did  come,  more  certain  and  fatal. 

I  had  now  a  little  leisure  for  reflection.  There  lay  poor 
Chainbearer,  stretched  on  his  death-pallet,  as  motionless  as 
if  the  breath  had  already  left  his  body.  Dus  maintained 
her  post,  nearly  as  immovable  as  her  uncle ;  while  Lowiny 
stood  at  hand,  manifesting  the  sympathy  of  her  sex  in  the 
mourning  scene  before  her.  I  caught  glimpses,  too,  in  pass 
ing,  of  Thousandacres  and  Prudence.  It  appeared  to  me 
as  if  the  first  had  not  stirred,  from  the  moment  when  he  had 
taken  his  seat  on  the  hearth.  His  countenance  was  as  set, 
his  air  as  moody,  and  his  attitude  as  stubborn,  as  each  had 
been  in  the  first  five  minutes  after  the  chainbearer  fell. 
Prudence,  too,  was  as  unchanged  as  her  husband.  Her 
body  continued  to  rock,  in  nervous  excitement,  but  not  once 
had  I  seen  her  raise  her  eyes  from  the  stone  of  the  rude 
hearth,  that  covered  nearly  one-half  of  the  room.  The  fire 
had  nearly  burned  down,  and  no  one  replenishing  the  brush 
which  fed  it,  a  flickering  flame  alone  remained  to  cast  its 
wavering  light  over  the  forms  of  these  two  conscience- 
stricken  creatures,  rendering  them  still  more  mysterious  and 
forbidding.  Lowiny  had  indeed  lighted  a  thin,  miserable 
candle  of  tallow,  such  as  one  usually  sees  in  the  lowest 
habitations ;  but  it  was  placed  aside,  in  order  to  be  removed 
from  before  the  sight  of  the  supposed  slumberer,  and  added 
but  little  to  the  light  of  the  room.  Notwithstanding,  I  could 
and  did  see  all  I  have  described,  stopping  for  some  little 
time  at  a  point  that  commanded  a  view  of  the  interior  of  the 
house. 

Of  Dus,  I  could  ascertain  but  little.  She  was  nearly  im 
movable  at  the  bed-side  of  her  uncle,  but  her  countenance 
was  veiled  from  my  view.  Suddenly,  and  it  was  at  one  of 
those  moments  when  I  had  stopped  in  front  of  the  building,, 
she  dropped  on  her  knees,  buried  her  face  in  the  coverlet, 
and  became  lost  in  prayer.  Prudence  started,  as  she  saw 
this  act ;  then  she  arose,  after  the  fashion  of  those  who  ima 
gine  they  have  contributed  to  the  simplicity,  and  conse. 
quently  to  the  beauty  of  worship,  by  avoiding  the  ceremony 
of  kneeling  to  Almighty  God,  and  stood  erect,  moving  to 
and  fro,  as  before,  her  tall,  gaunt  figure,  resembling  soma 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  369 

half-decayed  hemlock  of  the  adjacent  forest,  that  has  lost 
the  greater  portion  of  its  verdure,  rocked  by  a  tempest.  I 
was  touched,  notwithstanding,  at  this  silent  evidence  that 
the  woman  retained  some  of  the  respect  and  feeling  for  the 
services  of  the  Deity,  which,  though  strangely  blended  with 
fanaticism  and  a  pertinacious  self-.righleousness,  no  doubt 
had  a  large  influence  in  bringing  those  who  belonged  to  her 
race  across  the  Atlantic,  some  five  or  six  generations  pre 
viously  to  her  own. 

It  was  just  at  this  instant  that  I  recognised  the  voice  of 
Tobit,  as  he  advanced  towards  the  group  composed  of  his 
brethren ;  and  speaking  to  his  wife,  who  accompanied  him 
as  far  as  his  father's  habitation,  and  there  left  him,  appa 
rently  to  return  to  her  own.  I  did  not  distinguish  what  was 
said,  but  the  squatter  spoke  sullenly,  and  in  the  tone  of  one 
whose  humour  was  menacing.  Believing  that  I  might  meet 
with  some  rudeness  of  a  provoking  character  from  this  man, 
should  he  see  me  walking  about  in  the  manner  I  had  now 
been  doing  for  near  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  ere  he  had  the 
matter  explained,  I  thought  it  wisest  to  enter  the  building, 
and  effect  an  object  I  had  in  view,  by  holding  a  brief  con 
versation  with  Thousandacres. 

This  determination  was  no  sooner  formed  than  I  put  it  in 
execution ;  trusting  that  the  patience  of  the  Indian,  and 
Jaap's  habits  of  obedience,  would  prevent  anything  like  an 
outbreak  from  them,  without  orders.  As  I  re-entered  the 
room,  Dus  was  still  on  her  knees,  and  Prudence  continued 
erect,  oscillating  as  before,  with  her  eyes  riveted  on  the 
hearth.  Lowiny  stood  near  the  bed,  and  I  thought,  like  her 
mother,  she  was  in  some  measure  mingling  in  spirit,  with 
the  prayer. 

"  Thousandacres,"  I  commenced  in  a  low  voice,  drawing 
quite  near  to  the  squatter,  and  succeeding  in  causing  him  to 
look  at  me,  by  my  address — "  Thousandacres,  this  has  been 
a  most  melancholy  business,  but  everything  should  be  done 
that  can  be  done,  to  repair  the  evil.  Will  you  not  send  a 
messenger  through  to  the  'Nest,  to  obtain  the  aid  of  the 
physician  ?" 

"  Doctors  can  do  but  little  good  to  a  wound  made  by  a 
rifle  that  was  fired  so  cluss,  young  man.  I  want  no  doctors 
here,  to  betray  me  and  mine  to  the  law." 


370  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  Nay,  your  messenger  can  keep  your  secret ;  and  I  will 
give  him  gold  to  induce  the  physician  to  come,  and  come  at 
once.  He  can  be  told  that  I  am  accidentally  hurt,  and 
might  still  reach  us  to  be  of  service  in  alleviating  pain ;  I 
confess  there  is  no  hope  for  anything  else." 

"  Men  must  take  their  chances,"  coldly  returned  that  obdu 
rate  being.  "  Them  that  live  in  the  woods,  take  woodsmen's 
luck ;  and  them  that  live  in  the  open  country,  the  open 
country  luck.  My  family  and  lumber  must  be  presarved  at 
all  risks ;  and  no  doctor  shall  come  here." 

What  was  to  be  done — what  could  be  done,  with  such  a 
being  1  All  principle,  all  sense  of  right,  was  concentrated 
in  self — in  his  moral  system.  It  was  as  impossible  to  make 
him  see  the  side  of  any  question  that  was  opposed  to  his 
interests,  fancied  or  real,  as  it  was  to  give  sight  to  the  phy 
sically  blind.  I  had  hoped  contrition  was  at  work  upon  him, 
and  that  some  advantage  might  be  obtained  through  the 
agency  of  so  powerful  a  mediator ;  but  no  sooner  was  his 
dull  nature  aroused  into  anything  like  action,  than  it  took 
the  direction  of  selfishness,  as  the  needle  points  to  the 
pole. 

Disgusted  at  this  exhibition  of  the  most  confirmed  trait  of 
the  squatter's  character,  I  was  in  the  act  of  moving  from 
him,  when  a  loud  shout  arose  around  the  building,  and  the 
flashes  and  reports  of  three  or  four  rifles  were  heard.  Rush 
ing  to  the  door,  I  was  in  time  to  hear  the  tramp  of  men,  who 
seemed  to  me  to  be  pushing  forward  in  all  directions ;  and 
the  crack  of  the  rifle  was  occasionally  heard,  apparently 
retiring  towards  the  woods.  Men  called  to  each  other,  in 
the  excitement  of  a  chase  and  conflict ;  but  I  could  gain  no 
information,  the  body  of  darkness  which  had  settled  on  the 
place  having  completely  hidden  everything  from  view,  at 
any  distance. 

In  this  state  of  most  painful  doubt  I  continued  for  five  or 
six  minutes,  the  noise  of  the  chase  receding  the  whole  time, 
when  a  man  came  rushing  up  to  the  door  of  the  hut  where 
I  stood,  and,  seizing  my  hand,  I  found  it  was  Frank  Mai- 
bone.  The  succour,  then,  had  arrived,  and  I  was  no  longer 
a  captive. 

"  God  be  praised !  you  at  least  are  safe,"  cried  Malbone. 
"  But  my  dear  sister  ?" 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  371 

tc  Is  there  unharmed,  watching  by  the  side  of  her  uncle's 
dying  bed.  Is  any  one  hurt  without?" 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  Your  black  acted  as 
guide,  and  brought  us  down  on  the  place  so  skilfully,  that 
it  .was  not  my  intention  to  resort  to  arms  at  all,  since  we 
might  have  captured  all  the  squatters  without  firing  a  shot, 
had  my  orders  been  observed.  But  a  rifle  was  discharged 
from  behind  a  stump,  and  this  drew  a  volley  from  the  enemy. 
Some  of  our  side  returned  the  discharge,  and  the  squatters 
then  took  to  flight.  The  firing  you  have  just  heard  is  scat 
tered  discharges  that  have  come  from  both  sides,  and  can  be 
only  sound,  as  any  aim  is  impossible  in  this  obscurity.  My 
own  piece  has  not  even  been  cocked,  and  I  regret  a  rifle  has 
been  fired." 

"  Perhaps  all  is  then  well,  and  we  have  driven  off  our 
enemies  without  doing  them  any  harm.  Are  you  strong 
enough  to  keep  them  at  a  distance  ?" 

"  Perfectly  so ;  we  are  a  posse  of  near  thirty  men,  led  by 
an  under-sheriff  and  a  magistrate.  All  we  wanted  was  o 
direction  to  this  spot,  to  have  arrived  some  hours  earlier." 

I  groaned  in  spirit  at  hearing  this,  since  those  few  hours* 
might  have  saved  the  life  of  poor  Chainbearer.  As  it  was, 
however,  this  rescue  was  the  subject  of  grateful  rejoicing , 
and  one  of  the  happiest  moments  of  my  life  was  that  in 
which  I  saw  Dus  fall  on  her  brother's  bosom,  and  burst  into 
tears.  I  was  at  their  side,  in  the  door- way  of  the  hut,  when 
this  meeting  took  place ;  and  Dus  held  out  a  hand  affection 
ately  to  me,  as  she  withdrew  herself  from  her  brother's 
arms.  Frank  Malbone  looked  a  little  surprised  at  this  act; 
but,  anxious  to  see  and  speak  to  Chainbearer,  he  passed  into 
the  building,  and  approached  the  bed.  Dus  and  I  followed  ; 
for  the  shouts  and  firing  had  reached  the  ears  of  the  wound 
ed  man,  and  Andries  was  anxious  to  learn  their  meaning. 
The  sight  of  Malbone  let  him  into  a  general  knowledge  of 
the  state  of  the  facts ;  but  a  strong  anxiety  was  depicted  in 
his  failing  countenance,  as  he  looked  towards  me  for  infor 
mation. 

"  What  is  it,  Mortaunt  ?"  he  asked,  with  considerable 
strength  of  voice,  his  interest  in  the  answer  probably  stimu 
lating  his  physical  powers.  "  What  is  it,  poy  ?  I  hope  t'ere 
hast  peen  no  useless  fightin'  on  account  of  a  poor  olt  mao 


372  THE    CHAINBEAKEK. 

like  me,  who  hast  seen  his  t'ree-score  years  ant  ten,  ant 
who  owest  to  his  Maker  t'e  life  t'at  wast  grantet  to  hirw 
seventy  long  years  ago.  I  hope  no  one  hast  peen  injuret  io 
so  poor  a  cause." 

"  We  know  of  no  one  besides  yourself,  Chainbearer,  who 
has  been  hurt  to-night.  The  firing  you  have  heard,  comes 
from  the  party  of  Frank  Malbone,  which  has  just  arrived, 
and  which  has  driven  off  the  squatters  by  noise  more  than 
by  any  harm  that  has  been  done  them." 

"  Got  pe  praiset !  Got  pe  praiset  I  I  am  glat  to  see  Frank 
pefore  I  tie,  first  to  take  leaf  of  him,  as  an  olt  frient,  ant 
secontly  to  place  his  sister,  Dus,  in  his  care.  T'ey  haf 
wantet  to  gif  Dus  or  3  of  t'ese  squatters  for  a  huspant,  by 
way  of  making  peace  petween  t'ieves  ant  honest  people. 
T'at  woult  nefer  do,  Frank,  as  you  well  know  Dus  ist  t'e 
ta'ghter  of  a  gentleman,  ant  t'e  ta'ghter  of  a  laty ;  ant  she 
ist  a  gentlewoman  herself,  ant  ist  not  to  pe  marriet  to  a 
coarse,  rute,  illiterate,  vulgar  squatter.  Wast  I  young,  ant 
wast  I  not  t'e  gal's  uncle,  I  shoult  not  venture  to  s'pose 
I  coult  make  her  a  fit  companion  myself,  peing  too  little 
edicated  ant  instructet,  to  pe  the  huspant  of  one  like  Dus 
Malpone." 

"  There  is  no  fear  now,  that  any  such  calamity  can  befall 
my  sister,  my  dear  Chainbearer,  answered  Frank  Malbone. 
"Nor  do  I  think  any  threats  or  dangers  could  so  far 
intimidate  Dus,  as  to  cause  her  to  plight  her  faith  to  any 
man  she  did  not  love  or  respect.  They  would  have  found 
my  sister  difficult  to  coerce." 

"  It  ist  pest  ast  it  ist,  Frank — yes,  it  ist  pest  ast  it  ist. 
T'ese  squatters  are  fery  sat  rascals,  ant  woult  not  pe  apt  to 
stop  at  trifles.  Ant,  now  we  are  on  t'is  supject,  I  wilt  say 
a  wort  more  consarnin'  your  sister.  I  see  she  hast  gone 
out  of  t'e  hut  to  weep,  ant  she  wilt  not  hear  what  I  haf  to 
say.  Here  ist  Mortaunt  Littlepage,  who  says  he  Jofes  Dus 
more  ast  man  efer  lovet  woman  pefore  — "  Frank  started, 
and  I  fancied  that  his  countenance  grew  dark — "  ant  what 
ist  nat'ral  enough,  when  a  man  dost  truly  lofe  a  woman  in 
t'at  tegree,  he  wishes  fery,  fery  much  to  marry  her"— 
Frank's  countenance  brightened  immediately,  and  seeing 
my  hand  extended  towards  him,  he  grasped  it  and  gave  it  a 
snost  cordial  pressure.  "  Now,  Mortaunt  woult  pe  an  ex- 


THE    CHAINBEAKEK,*  373 

cellent  match  for  Dus — a  most  capital  match,  for  he  ist 
young  ant  goot  lookin',  ant  prave,  ant  honouraple,  ant  sen- 
siple,  ant  rich,  all  of  which  pe  fery  goot  t'ings  in  matri 
mony  ;  put,  on  t'e  ot'er  hant,  he  hast  a  fat'er,  ant  a  mot'er, 
ant  sisters,  ant  it  ist  nat'ral,  too,  t'at  t'ey  shoult  not  like, 
overmuch,  to  haf  a  son  ant  a  protrer  marry  a  gal  t'at  hasn't 
any  t'ing  put  a  set  of  chains,  a  new  compass,  ant  a  few 
fielt  articles  t'at  wilt  fall  to  her  share  a'ter  my  teat'.  No, 
no ;  we  must  t'ink  of  t'e  honour  of  t'e  Coejemans  ant  t'e 
Malpones,  ant  not  let  our  peloved  gal  go  into  a  family  t'at 
may  not  want  her." 

I  could  see  that  Frank  Malbone  smiled,  though  sadly,  as 
he  listened  to  this  warning ;  for,  on  him,  it  made  little  or  no 
impression,  since  he  was  generous  enough  to  judge  me  by 
himself,  and  did  not  believe  any  such  mercenary  considera 
tions  would  influence  my  course.  I  felt  differently,  how 
ever.  Obstinacy  in  opinion,  was  one  of  the  weak  points  in 
Chainbearer's  character,  and  I  saw  the  danger  of  his  leaving 
these  sentiments  as  a  legacy  to  Dus.  She,  indeed,  had  been 
the  first  to  entertain  them,  and  to  communicate  them  to  her 
uncle,  and  they  might  revive  in  her  when  she  came  to  reflect 
on  the  true  condition  of  things,  and  become  confirmed  by 
the  dying  requests  of  her  uncle.  It  is  true,  that  in  our  own 
interview,  when  I  obtained  from  the  dear  girl  the  precious 
confession  of  her  love,  no  such  obstacle  seemed  to  exist,  but 
both  of  us  appeared  to  look  forward  with  confidence  to  our 
future  union  as  to  a  thing  certain ;  but  at  that  moment,  Dus 
was  excited  by  my  declarations  of  the  most  ardent  and 
unutterable  attachment,  and  led  away  by  the  strength  of  her 
own  feelings.  We  were  in  the  delirium  of  delight  produced 
by  mutual  confidence,  and  the  full  assurance  of  mutual  love, 
when  Thousandacres  came  upon  us,  to  carry  us  to  the 
scenes  of  woe  by  which  we  had  been,  and  were  still,  in  a 
degree,  surrounded.  Under  such  circumstances,  one  might 
well  fall  under  the  influence  of  feelings  and  emotions  that 
would  prove  to  be  more  controllable  in  cooler  moments.  It 
was  all-important,  then,  for  me  to  set  Chainbearer  right  in 
the  matter,  and  to  have  a  care  he  did  not  quit  us,  leaving 
the  two  persons  he  most  loved  on  earth,  very  unnecessarily 
miserable,  and  that  solely  on  account  of  the  strength  of  his 
own  prejudices.  Nevertheless,  the  moment  was  not  favour- 
32 


374  THE    CHAlNBEARERo 

able  to  pursue  such  a  purpose,  and  I  was  reflecting  bitterly 
on  the  future,  when  we  were  all  startled  by  a  heavy  groan 
that  seemed  to  come  out  of  the  very  depths  of  the  chest  of 
the  squatter, 

Frank  and  I  turned  instinctively  towards  the  chimney,  on 
hearing  this  unlooked-for  interruption.  The  chair  of  Pru 
dence  was  vacant,  the  woman  having  rushed  from  the  hut 
at  the  first  sound  of  the  recent  alarm ;  most  probably,  in 
quest  of  her  younger  children.  But  Thousandacres  re 
mained  in  the  very  seat  he  had  now  occupied  nearly,  if  not 
quite,  two  hours.  I  observed,  however,  that  his  form  was 
not  as  erect  as  when  previously  seen.  It  had  sunk  lower 
in  the  chair,  while  his  chin  hung  down  upon  his  breast. 
Advancing  nearer,  a  small  pool  of  blood  was  seen  on  the 
stones  beneath  him,  and  a  short  examination  told  Malbone 
and  myself,  that  a  rifle-bullet  had  passed  directly  through 
his  body,  in  a  straight  line,  and  that  only  three  inches  above 
the  hips ! 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 


**  With  woful  measures,  wan  despair — 
Low,  sullen  sounds  his  grief  beguil'd, 
A  solemn,  strange,  and  mingled  air ; 
'Twas  sad  by  fits,  by  starts  'twas  wild." 

COLLINS. 

THOUSANDACRES  had  been  shot  in  his  chair,  by  one  of 
the  rifles  first  discharged  that  night.  As  it  turned  out,  he 
was  the  only  one  that  we  could  ascertain  was  hurt ;  though 
there  was  a  report,  to  which  many  persons  gave  credence, 
that  Tobit  had  a  leg  broken,  also,  and  that  he  remained  a 
cripple  for  life.  I  am  inclined  to  believe  this  report  may 
have  been  true;  for  Jaap  told  me,  after  all  was  over,  that 
he  let  fly  on  a  man  who  had  just  fired  on  himself,  and  who 
certainly  fell,  and  was  borne  off  limping,  by  two  of  his 
companions.  I*,  is  quite  probable  that  this  hurt  of  Tobit's, 
and  the  fate  of  his  father,  was  the  reason  we  received  no 


THE    CHAINBEAREH.  375 

more  annoyance  that  night  from  the  squatters,  who  had  all 
vanished  from  the  clearing  so  effectually,  including  most  of 
the  females  and  all  the  children,  that  no  traces  of  their  place 
of  retreat  were  to  be  found  next  morning.  Lowiny,  how 
ever,  did  not  accompany  the  family,  but  remained  near  Dus, 
rendering  herself  highly  useful  as  an  attendant  in  the  me 
lancholy  scene  that  followed.  I  may  as  well  add,  here,  that 
no  evidence  was  ever  obtained  concerning  the  manner  in 
which  Thousandacres  received  his  death-wound.  He  was 
shot  through  the  open  door,  beyond  all  question,  as  he  sat 
in  his  chair ;  and  necessarily  in  the  early  part  of  the  fray, 
for  then  only  was  a  rifle  discharged  very  near  the  house,  or 
from  a  point  that  admitted  of  the  ball's  hitting  its  victim. 
For  myself,  I  believed  from  the  first  that  Susquesus  sacri 
ficed  the  squatter  to  the  manes  of  his  friend,  Chainbearer ; 
dealing  out  Indian  justice,  without  hesitation  or  compunc 
tion.  Still,  I  could  not  be  certain  of  the  fact ;  and  the  Onon- 
dago  had  either  sufficient  prudence  or  sufficient  philosophy 
to  keep  his  own  secret.  It  is  true  that  a  remark  or  two  did 
escape  him,  soon  after  the  affair  occurred,  that  tended  to 
sustain  my  suspicions ;  but,  on  the  whole,  he  was  remark 
ably  reserved  on  the  subject — less  from  any  apprehension 
of  consequences,  than  from  self-respect  and  pride  of  charac 
ter.  There  was  little  to  be  apprehended,  indeed ;  the  pre 
vious  murder  of  Chainbearer,  and  the  unlawful  nature  of  all 
the  proceedings  of  the  squatters,  justifying  a  direct  and  sud 
den  attack  on  the  part  of  the  posse. 

Just  as  Malbone  and  myself  discovered  the  condition  of 
Thousandacres,  this  posse,  with  'squire  Newcome  at  its 
head,  began  to  collect  around  the  house,  which  might  now 
be  termed  our  hospital.  As  the  party  was  large,  and  neces 
sarily  a  little  tumultuous,  I  desired  Frank  to  lead  them  off 
to  some  of  the  other  buildings,  as  soon  as  a  bed  had  been 
prepared  for  the  squatter,  who  was  placed  in  the  same  room 
with  Chainbearer,  to  die.  No  one,  in  the  least  acquainted 
with  injuries  of  that  nature,  could  entertain  any  hope  for 
either ;  though  a  messenger  was  sent  to  the  settlements  for 
the  individual  who  was  called  "  doctor,"  and  who  was  really 
fast  acquiring  many  usefuFttotions  about  his  profession,  by 
practising  on  the  human  system.  They  say  that  "  an  ounce 
of  experience  is  worth  a  pound  of  theory,"  and  this  disciple 


376  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

of  Esculapius  seemed  to  have  set  up  in  his  art  on  this  prin 
ciple  ;  having  little  or  none  of  the  last,  while  he  was  really 
obtaining  a  very  respectable  amount  of  the  first,  as  he  prac 
tised  right  and  left,  as  the  pugilist  is  most  apt  to  hit  in  his 
rallies.  Occasionally,  however,  he  gave  a  knock-down  blow. 

As  soon  as  the  necessary  arrangemenss  were  made  in 
our  hospital,  I  told  Dus  that  we  would  leave  her  and  Lowiny 
in  attendance  on  the  wounded,  both  of  whom  manifested 
weariness  and  a  disposition  to  doze,  while  all  the  rest  of  the 
party  would  draw  off,  and  take  up  their  quarters  for  the 
night  in  the  adjacent  buildings.  Mai  bone  was  to  remain, 
as  a  sentinel,  a  little  distance  from  the  door,  and  I  promised 
to  join  him  in  the  course  of  an  hour. 

"  Lowiny  can  attend  to  the  wants  of  her  father,  while 
you  will  have  the  tenderest  care  of  your  uncle,  I  well  know. 
A  little  drink  occasionally  is  all  that  can  alleviate  their  suf 
ferings "  . 

"  Let  me  come  in,"  interrupted  a  hoarse  female  voice  at 
the  door,  as  a  woman  forced  her  way  through  the  opposing 
arms  of  several  of  the  posse.  "  I  am  Aaron's  wife,  and 
they  tell  me  he  is  hurt.  God  himself  has  ordered  that  a 
woman  should  cleave  unto  her  husband,  and  Thousandacres 
is  mine ;  and  he  is  the  father  of  my  children,  if  he  has  mur 
dered,  and  been  murdered  in  his  turn." 

There  was  something  so  commanding  in  the  natural  emo 
tions  of  this  woman,  that  the  guard  at  the  door  gave  way 
immediately,  when  Prudence  entered  the  room.  The  first 
glance  of  the  squatter's  wife  was  at  the  bed  of  Chainbearer; 
but  nothing  there  held  her  gaze  riveted.  That  gaze  only 
became  fixed  as  her  eyes  fell  on  the  large  form  of  Thousand- 
acres,  as  he  lay  extended  on  his  death-bed.  It  is  probable 
that  fliis  experienced  matron,  who  had  seen  so  many  acci 
dents  in  the  course  of  a  long  life,  and  had  sat  by  so  many 
i  bedside,  understood  the  desperate  nature  of  her  husband's 
situation  as  soon  as  her  eyes  fell  on  the  fallen  countenance; 
for,  turning  to  those  near  her,  the  first  impulse  was  to  re 
venge  the  wrong  which  she  conceived  had  been  done  to  her 
and  hers.  I  will  acknowledge  that  I  felt  awed,  and  that  a 
thrill  passed  through  my  frame  as  this  rude  and  unnurtured 
female,  roused  by  he?  impulses,  demanded  authoritatively — 

"  Who  has  done  this  ?    Who  has  taken  the  breath  from 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  377 

my  man  before  the  time  set  by  the  Lord !  Who  has  dared 
to  make  my  children  fatherless,  and  me  a  widow,  ag'in'  law 
and  right?  I  left  my  man  seated  on  that  hearth,  heart- 
stricken  and  troubled  at  what  had  happened  to  another;  and 
they  tell  me  he  has  been  murdered  in  his  chair.  The  Lord 
will  be  on  our  side  at  last,  arid  then  we'll  see  whom  the 
law  will  favour,  and  whom  the  law  will  condemn !" 

A  movement  and  a  groan,  on  the  part  of  Thousandacres, 
would  seem  first  to  have  apprized  Prudence  that  her  hus 
band  was  not  actually  dead.  Starting  at  this  discovery, 
this  tiger's  mate  and  tiger's  dam,  if  not  tigress  herself,  ceased 
everything  like  appeal  and  complaint,  and  set  herself  about 
those  duties  which  naturally  suggested  themselves  to  one  of 
her  experience,  with  the  energy  of  a  frontier  woman — a 
woodsman's  wife,  and  the  mother  of  a  large  brood  of  woods 
man's  sons  and  daughters.  She  wiped  the  face  of  Thousand- 
acres,  wet  his  lips,  shifted  his  pillow,  such  as  it  was,  placed 
his  limbs  in  postures  she  thought  the  easiest,  and  otherwise 
manifested  a  sort  of  desperate  energy  in  her  care.  The 
whole  time  she  was  doing  this,  her  tongue  was  muttering 
prayers  and  menaces,  strangely  blended  together,  and  quite 
as  strangely  mixed  up  with  epithets  of  endearment  that  were 
thrown  away  on  her  still  insensible  and  least  unconscious 
husband.  She  called  him  Aaron,  and  that,  too,  in  a  tone 
that  sounded  as  if  Thousandacres  had  a  strong  hold  on  her 
affections,  and  might  at  least  have  been  kind  and  true  to 
her. 

I  felt  convinced  that  Dus  had  nothing  to  fear  from  Pru 
dence,  and  I  left  the  place  as  soon  as  the  two  nurses  had 
everything  arranged  for  their  respective  patients,  and  the 
house  was  quite  free  from  the  danger  of  intrusion.  On 
quitting  her  who  now  occupied  most  of  my  thoughts,  I  ven 
tured  to  whisper  a  request  she  would  not  forget  the  pledges 
given  me  in  the  forest,  and  asked  her  to  summon  me  to  the 
bedside  of  Chainbearer,  should  he  rouse  himself  from  the 
slumber  that  had  come  over  him,  and  manifest  a  desire  to 
converse.  I  feared  he  might  renew  the  subject  to  which  his 
mind  had  already  once  adverted  since  receiving  his  wound, 
and  imbue  his  niece  with  some  of  his  own  set  notions  on 
that  subject.  Ursula  was  kindness  itself.  Her  affliction 
had  even  softened  her  feelings  towards  me  more  than  eve*; 
32* 


878  THE    CHAINBEAREH. 

and,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  I  certainly  had  no  ground 
for  uneasiness.  In  passing  Frank,  who  stood  on  post  some 
twenty  yards  from  the  door  of  the  house,  he  said  «  God  bless 
you,  Littlepage, —  fear  nothing.  I  am  too  much  in  your 
own  situation,  not  to  be  warmly  your  friend.'  I  returned 
his  good  wishes,  and  went  my  way,  in  one  sense  rejoic 
ing. 

The  posse,  as  has  been  stated,  were  in  possession  of  the 
different  deserted  habitations  of  the  family  of  Thousandacres. 
The  night  being  cool,  fires  were  blazing  on  all  the  hearths, 
and  the  place  wore  an  air  of  cheerfulness  that  it  had  proba 
bly  never  before  known.  Most  of  the  men  had  crowded  into 
two  of  the  dwellings,  leaving  a  third  for  the  convenience  of 
the  magistrate,  Frank  Mai  bone,  and  myself,  whenever  we 
might  choose  to  repair  to  it.  By  the  time  I  appeared,  the 
posse  had  supped,  using  the  milk  and  bread,  and  other  eat 
ables  of  the  squatters,  ad  libitum,  and  were  disposing  of 
themselves  on  the  beds  and  on  the  floors,  to  take  a  little  rest, 
after  their  long  and  rapid  march.  But  in  my  own  quarters 
I  found  'squire  Newcorne,  alone,  unless  the  silent  and  mo 
tionless  Onondago,  who  occupied  a  chair  in  a  corner  of  the 
fire-place,  could  be  called  a  companion.  Jaap,  too,  in  ex 
pectation  of  my  arrival,  was  lounging  near  the  door ;  and 
when  I  entered  the  house,  he  followed  me  in  for  orders. 

It  was  easy  for  me,  who  knew  of  Newcome's  relations 
with  the  squatters,  to  discover  the  signs  of  confusion  in  his 
countenance,  as  his  eye  first  met  mine.  One  who  was  not 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances,  most  probably  would 
have  detected  nothing  out  of  the  common  way.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  the  '  'squire'  had  no  positive  knowledge 
that  I  was  acquainted  with  his  previous  visit  to  the  mill ; 
and  it  will  be  easy  to  see  that  he  must  have  felt  an  itching 
and  uneasy  desire  to  ascertain  that  fact.  A  great  deal  de 
pended  on  that  circumstance ;  nor  was  it  long  before  I  had 
a  specimen  of  his  art  in  sounding  round  the  truth,  with  a 
view  to  relieve  his  mind. 

"  Who  'd  'a'  thought  of  findin'  major  Littlepage  in  the 
bands  of  the  Philistines,  in  sich  an  out  o'  the  way  place  as 
this!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Newcome,  as  soon  as  our  salutations 
had  been  exchanged.  "  I  've  heern  say  there  was  squatters 
down  hereabouts;  but  sich  things  are  so  common,  that  I 


THE    CIIAINBEARER.  379 

never  bethought  me  of  givin'  him  a  hint  on  the  matter  when 
I  last  saw  the  major." 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  deferential  manner  of  this  per 
son  when  he  had  an  object  to  gain,  it  being  quite  common 
with  him  to  use  the  third  person,  in  this  way,  when  address 
ing  a  superior ;  a  practice  that  has  almost  become  obsolete 
in  the  English  language,  and  which  is  seldom  if  ever  used 
in  America,  except  by  this  particular  class  of  men,  who 
defer  before  your  face,  and  endeavour  to  undermine  when 
the  back  is  turned.  My  humour  was  not  to  trifle  with  this 
fellow,  though  I  did  not  know  that  it  was  exactly  prudent, 
just  then,  to  let  him  know  that  I  had  both  seen  and  heard 
him  in  his  former  visit,  and  was  fully  aware  of  all  his  prac 
tices.  It  was  not  easy,  however,  to  resist  the  opportunity 
given  by  his  own  remarks,  to  put  him  a  little  way  on  the 
tenter-hooks  of  conscience — that  quality  of  the  human  mind 
being  one  of  the  keenest  allies  an  assailant  can  possess,  in 
cases  of  this  sort. 

"  I  had  supposed,  Mr.  Newcome,  that  you  were  generally 
charged  with  the  care  of  the  Mooseridge  lands,  as  one  of 
the  conditions  annexed  to  the  Ravensnest  agency  ?"  I  some 
what  drily  remarked. 

"  Sartain,  sir ;  the  colonel — or  gin'ral,  as  he  ought  to  be 
called  now,  I  do  s'pose — gave  me  the  superintendence  of 
both  at  the  same  time.  But  the  major  knows,  I  presume, 
that  Mooseridge  was  not  on  sale  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  it  would  seem  to  have  been  only  on  plunder. 
One  would  think  that  an  agent,  entrusted  with  the  care  of 
an  estate,  and  who  heard  of  squatters  being  in  possession, 
and  stripping  the  land  of  its  trees,  would  feel  it  to  be  his 
duty  at  least  to  apprise  the  owners  of  the  circumstance,  that 
they  might  look  to  the  case,  if  he  did  not." 

"  The  major  hasn't  rightly  understood  me,"  put  in  the 
'squire,  in  a  manner  that  was  particularly  deprecatory ;  "  I 
don't  mean  to  say  that  I  know'd,  with  anything  like  posi- 
tiveness,  that  there  was  squatters  hereabouts ;  but  that 
rumours  was  stirrin1  of  some  sich  things.  But  squatters  is 
sich  common  objects  in  new  countries,  that  a  body  scarce 
turns  aside  to  look  at  them !" 

"  So  it  would  seem,  in  your  case  at  least,  Mr.  Newcome. 
This  Thousandacres,  however,  they  tell  me,  is  a  well-known 


330  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

character,  and  has  done  little  since  his  youth  but  lumber  on 
the  property  of  other  people.  I  should  suppose  you  must 
have  met  him,  in  the  course  of  five-and-twenty  years'  resi 
dence  in  this  part  of  the  world  ?" 

"  Lord  bless  the  major !  met  Thousandacres  ?  Why, 
I  've  met  him  a  hundred  times !  We  all  know  the  old  man 
well  enough ;  and  many  and  many  is  the  time  I  've  met  him 
at  raisin's,  and  trainin's,  and  town  meetin's,  and  political 
meetin's,  too.  I  've  even  seen  him  in  court,  though  Thou 
sandacres  don't  set.  much  store  by  law,  not  half  as  much 
as  he  and  every  other  man  ought  to  do ;  for  law  is  excel 
lent,  and  society  would  be  no  better  than  a  collection  of  wild 
beasts,  as  I  often  tell  Miss  Newcome,  if  it  hadn't  law  to 
straighten  it  out,  and  to  teach  the  misguided  and  evil-dis 
posed  what 's  right.  I  s'pose  the  major  will  coincide  with 
that  idee  ?" 

"  I  have  no  particular  objection  to  the  sentiment,  sir,  but 
wish  it  was  more  general.  As  you  have  seen  this  person 
Thousandacreg  so  often,  perhaps  you  can  tell  me  something 
of  his  character.  My  opportunities  of  knowing  the  man 
have  been  none  of  the  best ;  for,  most  of  the  time  I  was  his 
prisoner,  he  had  me  shut  up  in  an  out-building  in  which  I 
believe  he  has  usually  kept  his  salt,  and  grain,  and  spare 
provisions." 

"  Not  the  old  store'-us' !"  exclaimed  the  magistrate,  look 
ing  a  little  aghast,  for  the  reader  will  doubtless  recollect 
that  the  confidential  dialogue  between  him  and  the  squatter, 
on  the  subject  of  the  lumber,  had  occurred  so  near  that 
building  as  to  be  overheard  by  me.  "How  long  has  the 
major  been  in  this  clearin',  I  wonder?" 

"  Not  a  very  great  while  in  fact,  though  long  enough  to 
make  it  appear  a  week.  I  was  put  into  the  store-house 
soon  after  my  seizure,  and  have  passed  at  least  half  my 
time  there  since." 

"  I  want  to  know  !  —  Perhaps  the  major  got  in  that  hole 
as  'arly  as  yesterday  morn  ?" 

"  Perhaps  I  did,  sir.  But,  Mr.  Newcome,  on  looking 
round  at  the  quantity  of  lumber  these  men  have  made,  and 
recollecting  the  distance  they  are  from  Albany,  I  am  at  a 
loss  to  imagine  how  they  could  hope  to  get  their  ill-gotten 
gains  to  market  without  discovery.  It  would  seem  to  me 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  381 

that  their  movements  must  be  known,  and  that  the  active 
and  honest  agents  of  this  part  of  the  country  would  seize 
their  rafts  in  the  water-courses  ;  thus  making  the  very  objects 
of  the  squatters'  roguery  the  means  of  their  punishment. 
Is  it  not  extraordinary  that  theft,  in  a  moral  sense  at  least, 
can  be  systematically  carried  on,  and  that  on  so  large  a 
scale,  with  such  entire  impunity  ?" 

"  Wa-a-1 — I  s'pose  the  major  knows  how  things  turn,  in 
this  world.  Nobody  likes  to  meddle." 

"  How,  sir  —  not  meddle !  This  is  contrary  to  all  my 
experience  of  the  habits  of  the  country,  and  all  I  have  heard 
of  it !  Meddling,  I  have  been  given  to  understand,  is  the 
great  vice  of  our  immigrant  population,  in  particular,  who 
never  think  they  have  their  just  rights,  unless  they  are  pri 
vileged  to  talk  about,  and  sit  in  judgment  on  the  affairs  of 
all  within  twenty  miles  of  them  ;  making  two-thirds  of  their 
facts  as  they  do  so,  in  order  to  reconcile  their  theories  with 
the  wished-for  results." 

"  Ah  !  1  don't  mean  meddlin'  in  that  sense,  of  which  there 
is  enough,  as  all  must  allow.  But  folks  don't  like  to  meddle 
with  things  that  don't  belong  to  them  in  such  serious  mat 
ters  as  this." 

"  I  understand  you  —  the  man  who  will  pass  days  in  dis 
cussing  his  neighbour's  private  affairs,  about  which  he  ab 
solutely  knows  nothing  but  what  has  been  obtained  from 
the  least  responsible  and  most  vulgar  sources,  will  stand  by 
and  see  that  neighbour  robbed  and  say  nothing,  under  the 
influence  of  a  sentiment  so  delicate,  that  it  forbids  his  med 
dling  with  what  don't  belong  to  him !" 

Lest  the  reader  should  think  I  was  unduly  severe  upon 
'squire  Newcome,  let  me  appeal  to  his  own  experience,  and 
inquire  if  he  never  knew,  not  only  individuals,  but  whole 
neighbourhoods,  which  were  sorely  addicted  to  prying  into 
every  man's  affairs,  and  to  inventing  when  facts  did  not  ex 
actly  sustain  theories ;  in  a  word,  convulsing  themselves 
with  that  with  which  they  have  no  real  concern,  draw  them 
selves  up  in  dignified  reserve,  as  the  witnesses  of  wrongs  of 
all  sorts,  that  every  honest  man  is  bound  to  oppose?  I  will 
go  further,  and  ask  if  a  man  does  happen  to  step  forth  to 
vindicate  the  right,  to  assert  truth,  to  defend  the  weak  and 
to  punish  the  wrong-doer,  if  that  man  be  not  usually  the 


382  •  THECHAINBEA.RER. 

one  who  meddles  least  in  the  more  ordinary  and  mino* 
transactions  of  life  —  the  man  who  troubles  his  neighbours 
least,  and  has  the  least  to  say  about  their  private  affairs  ? 
Does  it  not  happen  that  the  very  individual  who  will  stand 
by  and  see  his  neighbour  wronged,  on  account  of  his  indis 
position  to  meddle  with  that  which  does  not  belong  to  him, 
will  occupy  a  large  portion  of  his  own  time  in  discussing, 
throwing  out  hints,  and  otherwise  commenting  on  the  pri 
vate  affairs  of  that  very  neighbour] 

Mr.  Newcome  was  shrewd,  and  he  understood  me  well 
enough,  though  he  probably  found  it  a  relief  to  his  appre 
hensions  to  see  the  conversation  inclining  towards  these 
generalities,  instead  of  sticking  to  the  store-house.  Never 
theless,  *  boards'  must  have  been  uppermost  in  his  con 
science  ;  and,  after  a  pause,  he  made  an  invasion  into  the 
career  of  Thousandacres,  by  way  of  diverting  me  from 
pushing  matters  too  directly. 

"  This  old  squatter  was  a  desperate  man,  major  Little- 
page,"  he  answered,  "  and  it  may  be  fortinate  for  the  coun 
try  that  he  is  done  with.  I  hear  the  old  fellow  is  killed, 
and  that  all  the  rest  of  the  family  has  absconded." 

"  It  is  not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  Thousandacres  is  hurt 
— mortally,  perhaps — and  all  his  sons  have  disappeared ; 
but  his  wife  and  one  of  his  daughters  are  still  here,  in  at 
tendance  on  the  husband  and  father." 

"  Prudence  is  here,  then !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Newcome,  a 
little  indiscreetly  as  I  thought. 

"She  is — but  you  seem  to  know  the  family  well  for  a 
magistrate,  'squire,  seeing  their  ordinary  occupation  —  so 
well,  as  to  call  the  woman  by  her  name." 

"  Prudence,  I  think  Thousandacres  used  to  call  his 
woman.  Yes,  the  major  is  very  right ;  we  magistrates  do 
get  to  know  the  neighbourhood  pretty  gin'rally ;  what  be 
tween  summonses,  and  warrants,  and  bailings-out.  But  the 
major  hasn't  yet  said  when  he  first  fell  into  the  hands  of 
these  folks  ?" 

"  I  first  entered  this  clearing  yesterday  morning,  not  a 
long  time  after  the  sun  rose,  since  which  time,  sir,  I  have 
been  detained  here,  either  by  force  or  by  circumstances." 

A  long  pause  succeeded  this  announcement.  The  'squire 
fidgeted,  and  seemed  uncertain  how  to  act ;  for,  while  my 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  383 

announcement  must  have  given  rise,  in  his  mind,  to  the 
strong  probability  of  my  knowing  of  his  connection  with 
the  squatters,  it  did  not  absolutely  say  as  much.  I  could 
see  that  he  was  debating  with  himself  on  the  expediency  or 
coming  out  with  some  tale  invented  for  the  occasion,  and  I 
turned  towards  the  Indian  and  the  negro,  both  of  whom  I 
knew  to  be  thoroughly  honest — after  the  Indian  and  the 
negro  fashions  —  in  order  to  say  a  friendly  word  to  each  in 
turn. 

Susquesus  was  in  one  of  his  quiescent  moods,  and  had 
lighted  a  pipe,  which  he  was  calmly  smoking.  No  one,  to 
look  at  him,  would  suppose  that  he  had  so  lately  been  en 
gaged  in  a  scene  like  that  through  which  he  had  actually 
gone ;  but,  rather,  that  he  was  some  thoughtful  philosopher, 
who  habitually  passed  his  time  in  reflection  and  study. 

As  this  was  one  of  the  occasions  on  which  the  Onondago 
came  nearest  to  admitting  his  own  agency  in  procuring  the 
death  of  the  squatter,  I  shall  relate  the  little  that  passed 
between  us. 

"  Good  evening,  Sureflint,"  I  commenced,  extending  a 
hand,  which  the  other  courteously  took  in  compliance  with 
our  customs.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  at  large,  and  no 
longer  a  prisoner  in  that  store-house." 

"  Store-'us'  poor  gaol.  Jaap  snap  off  bolt  like  pipe-stem. 
Won'er  T'ousandacres  didn't  t'ink  of  d'at." 

"  Thousandacres  has  had  too  much  to  think  of  this  even 
ing,  to  remember  such  a  trifle.  He  has  now  to  think  of  his 
end." 

The  Onondago  was  clearing  the  bowl  of  his  pipe  of  its 
superfluous  ashes  as  I  said  this,  and  he  deliberately  effected 
his  purpose  ere  he  answered — 

"  Sartain — s'pose  he  kill  dis  time." 

"  I  fear  his  hurt  is  mortal,  and  greatly  regret  that  it  has 
happened.  The  blood  of  our  tried  friend,  Chainbearer, 
was  enough  to  be  shed  in  so  miserable  an  affair  as  this." 

"  Yes,  'fair  pretty  mis'rable ;  t'ink  so,  too.  If  squatter 
shoot  surveyor,  must  t'ink  surveyor's  fri'nd  will  shoot 
squatter." 

"  That  may  be  Indian  law,  Sureflint,  but  it  is  not  the  lavf 
of  the  Pale  Face,  in  the  time  of  peace  and  quiet." 

Susquesus  continued  to  smoke,  making  no  answer. 


384  THE     CHAIN  BEARER. 

"  It  was  a  very  wicked  thing  to  murder  Chainbearer,  and 
Thousandacres  should  have  been  handed  over  to  the  magis 
trates,  for  punishment,  if  he  had  a  hand  in  it ;  not  shot, 
like  a  dog." 

The  Onondago  drew  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  looked 
round  towards  the  'squire,  who  had  gone  to  the  door  in 
order  to  breathe  the  fresh  air — then,  turning  his  eyes  most 
significantly  on  me,  he  answered — 

"  Who  magistrate  go  to,  eh  ? — What  use  good  law  wit' 
poor  magistrate  1  Better  have  red-skin  law,  and  warrior  be 
he  own  magistrate — own  gallows,  too." 

The  pipe  was  replaced,  and  Sureflint  appeared  to  be 
satisfied  with  what  had  passed  ;  for  he  turned  away,  and 
seemed  to  be  lost,  again,  in  his  own  reflections. 

After  all,  the  strong  native  intellect  of  this  barbarian  had 
let  him  into  one  of  the  greatest  secrets  connected  with  our 
social  ills.  Good  laws,  badly  administered,  are  no  better 
than  an  absence  of  all  law,  since  they  only  encourage  evil 
doers  by  the  protection  they  afford  through  the  power  con 
ferred  on  improper  agents.  These  who  have  studied  the 
defects  of  the  American  system,  with  a  view  to  ascertain 
truth,  say  that  the  want  of  a  great  moving  power  to  set  jus 
tice  in  motion  lies  at  the  root  of  its  feebleness.  According 
to  theory,  the  public  virtue  is  to  constitute  this  power ;  but 
public  virtue  is  never  one-half  as  active  as  private  vice. 
Crime  is  only  to  be  put  down  by  the  strong  hand,  and  that 
hand  must  belong  to  the  public  in  truth,  not  in  name  only  ; 
whereas,  the  individual  wronged  is  fast  getting  to  be  the 
only  moving  power,  and  in  very  many  cases  local  parties 
are  formed,  and  the  rogue  goes  to  the  bar  sustained  by  an. 
authority  that  has  quite  as  much  practical  control  as  the 
law  itself.  Juries  and  grand  juries  are  no  longer  to  be  re 
lied  on,  and  the  bench  is  slowly,  but  steadily,  losing  its  in 
fluence.  When  the  day  shall  come — as  come  it  must,  if  pre 
sent  tendencies  continue — that  verdicts  are  rendered  directly 
in  the  teeth  of  law  and  evidence,  and  jurors  fancy  them 
selves  legislators,  then  may  the  just  man  fancy  himself  ap 
proaching  truly  evil  times,  and  the  patriot  begin  to  despair. 
It  will  be  the  commencement  of  the  rogue's  paradise  !  No 
thing  is  easier,  I  am  willing  to  admit,  than  to  over-govern 
men ;  but  it  ought  not  to  be  forgotten,  that  the  political  vice 


THE     CHAIN  BEARER.  3Q5 

that  comes  next  in  the  scale  of  facility,  is  to  govern  them 
100  little. 

Jaap,  or  Jaaf,  had  been  humbly  waiting  for  his  turn  to 
foe  noticed.  There  existed  perfect  confidence,  as  between 
him  and  myself,  but  there  were  also  bounds,  in  the  way  of 
respect,  that  the  slave  never  presumed  to  pass,  without  di 
rect  encouragement  from  the  master.  Had  I  not  seen  fit  to 
speak  to  the  black  that  night,  he  would  not  have  commenced 
a  conversation,  which,  begun  by  me,  he  entered  into  with 
the  utmost  frankness  and  freedom  from  restraint. 

"  You  seem  to  have  managed  your  part  of  this  affair, 
Jaap,"  I  said,  "  with  discretion  and  spirit.  I  have  every 
reason  to  be  satisfied  with  you ;  more  especially  for  libe 
rating  the  Indian,  and  for  the  manner  in  which  you  guided 
the  posse  down  into  the  clearing,  from  the  woods." 

"  Yes,  sah  ;  s'pose  you  would  t'ink  dat  was  pretty  well. 
As  for  Sus,  t'ought  it  best  to  let  him  out,  for  he  be  won'erful 
sartain  wid  he  rifle.  We  should  do  much  better,  masser 
Mordy,  but  'e  'squire  so  werry  backward  about  lettin  'e  men 
shoot  'em  'ere  squatter !  Gosh  !  masser  Mordy,  if  he  only 
say  « fire'  when  I  want  him,  I  don't  t'ink  so  much  as  half  a 
one  get  off." 

"  It  is  best  as  it  is,  Jaap.  We  are  at  peace,  and  in  the 
bosom  of  our  country ;  and  bloodshed  is  to  be  avoided." 

"Yes,  sah;  but  Chainbearer!  If 'ey  don't  like  blood 
shed,  why  'ey  shoot  him,  sah  ?" 

"  There  is  a  feeling  of  justice  in  what  you  say,  Jaap,  but 
the  community  cannot  get  on  in  anything  like  safety  unless 
we  let  the  law  rule.  Our  business  was  to  take  those  squat- 
tors,  and  to  hand  them  over  to  the  law." 

"  Werry  true,  sah.  Nobody  can't  deny  dat,  masser  Mor 
dy,  but  he  nodder  seize  nor  shot,  now  !  Sartain,  it  best  to 
do  one  or  t'odder  with  sich  rascal.  Well,  I  t'ink  dat  Tobit, 
as  dey  calls  him,  will  remember  Jaap  Satanstoe  long  as  he 
live.  Dat  a  good  t'ing,  any  way !" 

"  Good !"  exclaimed  the  Onondago,  with  energy. 

I  saw  it  was  useless,  then,  to  discuss  abstract  principles 
with  men  so  purely  practical  as  my  two  companions,  and  I 
left  the  house  to  reconnoitre,  ere  I  returned  to  our  hospital 
for  the  night.  The  negro  followed  me,  and  I  questioned 
him  as  to  the  manner  of  the  attack,  and  the  direction  of  the 
33 


386  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

retreat  of  the  squatters,  in  order  to  ascertain  what  dangef 
there  might  be  during  the  hours  of  darkness.  Jaap  gave 
me  to  understand  that  the  men  of  Thousandacres'  family 
had  retired  by  the  way  of  the  stream,  profiting  by  the  de 
clivity  to  place  themselves  under  cover  as  soon  as  possible. 
A.S  respects  the  women  and  children,  they  must  have  got 
into  the  woods  at  some  other  point,  and  it  was  probable  the 
whole  had  sought  some  place  of  retreat  that  would  naturally 
have  been  previously  appointed  by  those  who  knew  that 
they  lived  in  the  constant  danger  of  requiring  one.  Jaap 
was  very  certain  we  should  see  no  more  of  the  men,  and  in 
that  he  was  perfectly  right.  No  more  was  ever  seen  of  any 
one  of  them  all  in  that  part  of  the  country,  though  rumours 
reached  us,  in  the  course  of  time,  from  some  of  the  more 
western  counties,  that  Tobit  had  been  seen  there,  a  cripple, 
as  I  have  already  stated,  but  maintaining  his  old  character 
for  lawlessness  and  disregard  of  the  rights  of  others. 

I  next  returned  to  Frank  Malbone,  who  still  stood  on  post 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  door,  through  which  we  could 
both  see  the  form  and  features  of  his  beautiful  and  beloved 
sister.  Dus  sat  by  her  uncle's  bed-side,  while  Prudence  had 
stationed  herself  by  that  of  her  husband.  Frank  and  I  ad 
vanced  near  the  door,  and  looked  in  upon  the  solemn  and 
singular  sight  that  room  afforded.  It  was  indeed  a  strange 
and  sad  spectacle,  to  see  those  two  aged  men,  each  with  his 
thin  locks  whitened  by  seventy  years,  drawing  near  their 
ends,  the  victims  of  lawless  violence;  for,  while  the  death 
of  Thousandacres  was  enveloped  in  a  certain  mystery,  and 
might  by  some  eyes  be  viewed  as  merited  and  legal,  there 
could  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  a  direct  consequence  of  the 
previous  murder  of  Chainbearer.  It  is  in  this  way  that 
wrong  extends  and  sometimes  perpetuates  its  influence, 
proving  the  necessity  of  taking  time  by  the  forelock,  and 
resorting  to  prevention  in  the  earliest  stages  of  the  evil, 
instead  of  cure. 

There  lay  the  two  victims  of  the  false  principles  that  the 
physical  condition  of  the  country,  connected  with  its  passive 
endurance  of  encroachments  on  the  right,  had  gradually 
permitted  to  grow  up  among  us.  Squatting  was  a  conse 
quence  of  the  thinness  of  the  population  and  of  the  abun 
dance  of  land,  the  two  very  circumstances  that  rendered  it  the 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  387 

less  justifiable  in  a  moral  point  of  view ;  but  which,  by 
rendering  the  one  side  careless  of  its  rights,  and  the  other 
proportionably  encroaching,  had  gradually  led,  not  only  to 
this  violation  of  law,  but  to  the  adoption  of  notions  that  are 
adverse  to  the  supremacy  of  law  in  any  case.  It  is  this 
gradual  undermining  of  just  opinions  that  forms  the  immi 
nent  danger  of  our  social  system  ;  a  spurious  philanthropy 
on  the  subject  of  punishments,  false  notions  on  that  of  per 
sonal  rights,  and  the  substitution  of  numbers  for  principles, 
bidding  fair  to  produce  much  the  most  important  revolution 
that  has  ever  yet  taken  place  on  the  American  continent. 
The  lover  of  real  liberty,  under  such  circumstances,  should 
never  forget  that  the  road  to  despotism  lies  along  the  borders 
of  the  slough  of  licentiousness,  even  when  it  escapes  wal 
lowing  in  its  depths. 

When  Malbone  and  myself  drew  back  from  gazing  on 
the  scene  within  the  house,  he  related  to  me  in  detail  all  that 
was  connected  with  his  own  proceedings.  The  reader  knows 
that  it  was  by  means  of  a  meeting  in  the  forest,  between 
the  Indian  and  the  negro,  that  my  friends  first  became  ac 
quainted  with  my  arrest,  and  the  probable  danger  in  which 
I  was  placed.  Chainbearer,  Dus,  and  Jaap  instantly  repaired 
to  the  clearing  of  Thousandacres  ;  while  Malbone  hastened 
on  to  Ravensnest,  in  pursuit  of  legal  aid,  and  of  a  force  to 
render  my  rescue  certain.  Meditating  on  all  the  facts  of 
the  case,  and  entertaining  most  probably  an  exaggerated 
notion  of  the  malignant  character  of  Thousandacres,  by  the 
time  he  reached  the  Nest,  my  new  friend  was  in  a  most 
feverish  state  of  excitement.  His  first  act  was,  to  write  a 
brief  statement  of  the  facts  to  my  father,  and  to  despatch 
his  letter  by  a  special  messenger,  with  orders  to  him  to  push 
on  for  Fishkill,  all  the  family  being  there  at  the  time,  on  a 
visit  to  the  Kettletases ;  proceeding  by  land  or  by  water,  as 
the  wind  might  favour.  I  was  startled  at  this  information, 
foreseeing  at  once  that  it  would  bring  not  only  the  general 
himself,  but  my  dear  mother  and  Kate,  with  Tom  Bayard 
quite  likely  in  her  train,  post  haste  to  Ravensnest.  It  might 
even  cause  my  excellent  old  grandmother  to  venture  so  far 
from  home ;  for  my  last  letters  had  apprised  me  that  they 
were  all  on  the  point^f  visiting  my  sister  Anneke,  which 


388  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

was  the  way  Frank  had  learned  where  the  family  was  to  be 
found. 

As  Malbone's  messenger  had  left  the  Nest  early  the  pre 
ceding  night,  and  the  wind  had  been  all  day  fresh  at  north, 
it  came  quite  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  he  might 
be  at  Fishkill  at  the  very  moment  I  was  listening  to  the 
history  of  his  message.  The  distance  was  about  a  hundred 
and  forty  miles,  and  nearly  one  hundred  of  it  could  be  made 
by  water.  Such  a  messenger  would  care  but  little  for  the 
accommodations  of  his  craft ;  and,  on  the  supposition  that 
he  reached  Albany  that  morning,  and  found  a  sloop  ready 
to  profit  by  the  breeze,  as  would  be  likely  to  occur,  it  would 
be  quite  in  rule  to  reach  the  fending  at  Fishkill  in  the  course 
of  the  evening,  aided  by  the  little  gale  that  had  been  blowing. 
I  knew  General  Littlepage  too  well,  to  doubt  either  his  affec 
tion  or  his  promptitude.  Albany  could  be  reached  in  a  day 
by  land,  and  Ravensnest  in  another.  I  made  my  account, 
therefore,  to  see  a  part  if  not  all  of  the  family  at  the  Nest, 
as  soon  as  I  should  reach  it  myself;  an  event  not  likely  to 
occur,  however,  for  some  little  time,  on  account  of  the  con 
dition  of  Chainbearer. 

I  shall  not  deny  that  this  new  state  of  things,  with  the 
expectations  connected  with  it,  gave  me  sufficient  food  for 
reflection.  I  could  not  and  did  not  blame  Frank  Malbone 
for  what  he  had  done,  since  it  was  natural  and  proper. 
Notwithstanding,  it  would  precipitate  matters  as  regarded 
my  relations  to  Dus  a  little  faster  than  I  could  have  wished. 
I  desired  time  to  sound  my  family  on  the  important  subject 
of  my  marriage — to  let  the  three  or  four  letters  I  had  already 
written,  and  in  which  she  had  been  mentioned  in  a  marked 
manner,  produce  their  effect ;  and  I  counted  largely  on  the 
support  I  was  to  receive  through  the  friendship  and  repre 
sentations  of  Miss  Bayard.  I  felt  certain  that  deep  disap 
pointment  on  the  subject  of  Pris.  would  be  felt  by  the  whole 
family ;  and  it  was  my  wish  not  to  introduce  Ursula  to  their 
acquaintance  until  time  had  a  little  lessened  its  feeling.  But 
things  must  now  take  their  course ;  and  my  determination 
was'settled  to  deal  as  sincerely  and  simply  as  possible  with 
my  parents  on  the  subject.  I  knew  their  deep  affection  for 
me,  and  relied  strongly  on  that  natural  support. 

I  had  half  an  hour's  conversation  with  Dus  while  walking 


THE    C  II  AINB  BARER.  38$ 

in  front  of  the  hospital  that  night,  Frank  taking  his  sister's 
place  by  the  side  of  Chainbearer's  bed.  Then  it  was  that  1 
again  spoke  of  my  hopes,  and  explained  the  probabilities  of 
our  seeing  all  of  my  immediate  family  so  shortly  at  Ravens- 
nest.  My  arm  was  round  the  waist  of  the  dear  girl  as  I 
communicated  these  facts ;  and  I  felt  her  tremble,  as  if  she 
dreaded  the  trial  she  was  to  undergo. 

"  This  is  very  sudden  and  unexpected,  Mordaunt,"  Dus 
remarked,  after  she  had  had  a  little  time  to  recover  her 
recollection  ;  "  and  I  have  so  much  reason  to  fear  the  judg 
ment  of  your  respectable  parents — of  your  charming  sister, 
of  whom  I  have  heard  so  often  through  Priscilla  Bayard — 
and  indeed  of  all  who  have  lived,  as  they  have  done,  amid 
the  elegancies  of  a  refined  state  of  society ;  I,  Dus  Malbone 
— a  chainbearer's  niece,  and  a  chainbearer  myself!" 

"  You  have  never  borne  any  chain,  love,  that  is  as  lasting 
or  as  strong  as  that  which  you  have  entwined  around  my 
heart,  and  which  will  for  ever  bind  me  to  you,  let  the  rest 
of  the  world  regard  us  both  as  it  may.  But  you  can  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  any,  and  least  of  all  from  my  friends. 
My  father  is  not  worldly-minded ;  and  as  for  my  dear,  dear 
mother,  Armeke  Mordaunt,  as  the  general  even  now  often 
affectionately  calls  her,  as  if  the  name  itself  reminded  him 
of  the  days  of  her  maiden  loveliness  and  pride — as  for  that 
beloved  mother,  Ursula,  I  do  firmly  believe  that,  when  she 
comes  to  know  you,  she  will  even  prefer  you  to  her  son." 

"That  is  a  picture  of  your  blinded  partiality,  Mordaunt," 
answered  the  gratified  girl,  for  gratified  I  could  see  she  was, 
"  and  must  not  be  too  fondly  relied  on.  But  this  is  no  time 
to  talk  of  our  own  future  happiness,  when  the  eternal  hap 
piness  or  misery  of  those  two  aged  men  is  suspended,  as  it 
might  be,  by  a  thread.  I  have  read  prayers  once  already 
with  my  dear  uncle;  and  that  strange  woman,  in  whom 
there  is  so  much  of  her  sex  mingled  with  a  species  of  fero 
city  like  that  of  a  she-bear,  has  muttered  a  hope  that  her 
own  « dying  man,'  as  she  calls  him,  is  not  to  be  forgotten. 
I  have  promised  he  should  not  be,  and  it  is  time  to  attend  to 
that  duty  next." 

What  a  scene  followed  !  Dus  placed  the  light  on  a  chest 
near  the  bed  of  Thousandacres,  and,  with  the  prayer-book 
in  her  hand,  she  knelt  beside  it.  Prudence  stationed  herself 
33* 


390  THE    CHAII4BEARER. 

in  such  a  posture  that  her  head  was  buried  in  one  of  her 
own  garments,  that  was  suspended  from  a  peg ;  and  there 
she  stood,  while  the  melodious  voice  of  Ursula  Malbone 
poured  out  the  petitions  contained  in  the  offices  for  the 
dying,  in  humble  but  fervent  piety.  I  say  stood,  for  neither 
Prudence  nor  Lowiny  knelt.  The  captious  temper  of  self- 
righteousness  which  had  led  their  ancestors  to  reject  kneel 
ing  at  prayers  as  the  act  of  formalists,  had  descended  to 
them;  and  there  they  stood,  praying  doubtless  in  their 
hearts,  but  ungracious  formalists  themselves  in  their  zeal 
against  forms.  Frank  and  I  knelt  in  the  door-way ;  and  I 
can  truly  affirm  that  never  did  prayers  sound  so  sweetly  in 
my  ears,  as  those  which  then  issued  from  the  lips  of  Ursula 
Malbone. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"  Thence  cum  we  to  the  horrour  and  the  hel, 
The  large  great  kyngdomes,  and  the  dreadful  raygne 

Of  Pluto  in  his  trone  where  he  dyd  dwell, 
The  wyde  waste  places,  and  the  hugye  playne : 
The  waylings,  shrykcs,  and  sundry  sortes  of  payne, 
The  syghes,  and  sobbes,  the  diep  and  deadly  groane, 
Earth,  ayer,  and  all  resounding  playnt  and  moane. 

SACKVIIXK. 

IN  this  manner  did  that  memorable  night  wear  away. 
The  two  wounded  men  slumbered  much  of  the  time  ;  nor 
did  their  wants  extend  beyond  occasional  draughts  of  water, 
to  cool  their  feverish  mouths,  or  the  wetting  of  lips.  I  pre 
vailed  on  Dus  to  lie  down  on  the  bed  of  Lowiny,  and  try  to 
get  a  little  rest ;  and  I  had  the  pleasure  to  hear  her  say  that 
she  had  slept  sweetly  for  two  or  three  hours,  after  the  turn 
of  the  night.  Frank  and  I  caught  naps,  also,  after  the 
fashion  of  soldiers,  and  Lowiny  slept  in  her  chair,  or  leaning 
on  her  father's  bed.  As  for  Prudence,  I  do  not  think  her 
watchfulness  was  lessened  for  a  single  instant.  There  she 
sat  the  live-long  night ;  silent,  tearless,  moody,  and  heart- 
stricken  by  the  great  and  sudden  calamity  that  had  befallen 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  391 

her  race,  but  vigilant  and  attentive  to  the  least  movement  in 
the  huge  frame  of  her  wounded  partner.  No  complaint 
escaped  her ;  scarcely  once  did  she  turn  to  look  at  what 
was  going  on  around  her,  nor  in  any  manner  did  she  heed 
aught  but  her  husband.  To  him  she  seemed  to  be  uner 
ringly  true ;  and  whatever  she  may,  and  must  have  thought 
of  his  natural  sternness,  and  occasional  fits  of  severity  to 
wards  herself,  all  now  seemed  to  be  forgotten. 

At  length  light  returned,  after  hours  of  darkness  that 
seemed  to  me  to  be  protracted  to  an  unusual  length.  Then 
it  was,  when  Jaap  and  the  Indian  were  ready  to  take  our 
places  on  the  watch,  that  Frank  and  I  went  to  one  of  the 
huts  and  lay  down  for  two  or  three  hours  ;  and  that  was  the 
time  when  Dus  got  her  sweetest  and  most  refreshing  sleep. 
Lowiny  prepared  our  morning's  meal  for  us;  which  we 
three,  that  is,  Dus,  Frank  and  myself,  took  together  in  the 
best  way  we  could,  in  the  dwelling  of  Tobit.  As  for  squire 
Newcome,  he  left  the  clearing  in  the  course  of  the  night,  or 
very  early  in  the  morning,  doubtless  exceedingly  uneasy  in 
his  conscience,  but  still  uncertain  whether  his  connection 
with  the  squatters  was,  or  was  not  known  to  me:  the 
excuse  for  this  movement  being  the  probable  necessity  of 
summoning  a  jury ;  Mr.  Jason  Newcome  filling  in  his  own 
person,  or  by  deputy,  the  several  offices  and  functions  of 
justice  of  the  peace,  one  of  the  coroners  of  the  county,  super 
visor  of  the  township  of  Ravensnest,  merchant,  shopkeeper, 
miller,  lumber-dealer,  husbandman  and  innkeeper;  to  say 
nothing  of  the  fact  that  he  wrote  all  the  wills  of  the  neigh 
bourhood;  was  a  standing  arbitrator  when  disputes  were 
« left  out  to  men ;'  was  a  leading  politician,  a  patriot  by 
trade,  and  a  remarkable  and  steady  advocate  of  the  rights 
of  the  people,  even  to  minutiae.  Those  who  know  mankind 
will  not  be  surprised,  after  this  enumeration  of  his  pursuits 
and  professions,  to  hear  it  added  that  he  was  a  remarkable 
rogue  in  the  bargain. 

There  are  two  things  I  have  lived  long  enough  to  receive 
as  truths  established  by  my  own  experience,  and  they  are 
these :  I  never  knew  a  man  who  made  large  professions  of 
a  love  for  the  people,  and  of  his  wish  to  serve  them  on  all 
occasions,  whose  aim  was  not  to  deceive  them  to  his  own 
advantage ;  and  the  other  is,  that  I  never  knew  a  man  who 


392  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

was  compelled  to  come  much  in  contact  with  the  people,  and 
who  at  the  same  time  was  personally  popular,  who  had  any 
thing  in  him,  at  the  bottom.  But  it  is  time  to  quit  Jason  New- 
come  and  his  defects  of  character,  in  order  to  attend  to  the 
interesting  scene  that  awaited  us  in  the  dwelling  of  Thou- 
sandacres,  and  to  which  we  were  now  summoned  by  Jaap. 

As  the  day  advanced,  both  the  chainbearer  and  the  squat 
ter  became  aroused  from  the  languor  that  had  succeeded  the 
receiving  of  their  respective  hurts,  and  more  or  less  alive  to 
what  was  passing  around  them.  Life  was  ebbing  fast  in 
both,  yet  each  seemed,  just  at  that  moment,  to  turn  his 
thoughts  backward  on  the  world,  in  order,  as  it  might  be,  to 
take  a  last  look  at  those  scenes  in  which  he  had  now  been 
an  actor  for  the  long  period  of  three-score  and  ten  years. 

"  Uncle  Chainbearer  is  much  revived,  just  now,"  said  Dus> 
meeting  Frank  and  myself  at  the  door,  "  and  he  has  asked 
for  you  both  ;  more  especially  for  Mordaunt,  whose  name 
he  has  mentioned  three  several  times  within  the  last  five 
minutes.  '  Send  for  Mordaunt,  my  child,'  he  has  said  to 
me,  '  for  I  wish  to  speak  with  him  before  I  quit  you.'  I  am 
fearful  he  has  inward  admonitions  of  his  approaching  end." 

"  That  is  possible,  dearest  Ursula ;  for  men  can  hardly 
lose  their  hold  of  life  without  being  aware  of  the  approaches 
of  death.  I  will  go  at  once  to  his  bedside,  that  he  may  know 
I  am  here.  It  is  best  to  let  his  own  feelings  decide  whether 
he  is  able  or  not  to  converse." 

The  sound  of  Chainbearer's  voice,  speaking  in  a  low  but 
distinct  tone,  caught  our  ears  as  we  approached  him,  and 
we  all  stopped  to  listen. 

"  I  say,  T'ousantacres,"  repeated  Andries,  on  a  key  a 
little  louder  than  before,  "  if  you  hear  me,  olt  man,  ant  can 
answer,  I  wish  you  to  let  me  know  it.  You  ant  I  pe  apout 
to  start  on  a  fery  long  journey,  ant  it  ist  unreasonaple,  as 
well  as  wicket,  to  set  out  wit'  pad  feelin's  at  t'e  heart.  If 
you  hat  hat  a  niece,  now.  like  Dus  t'ere,  to  tell  you  t'ese 
matters,  olt  Aaron,  it  might  pe  petter  for  your  soul  in  t'e 
worlt  into  which  we  are  poth  apout  to  enter." 

"  He  knows  it — I  'm  sure  he  knows  it,  and  feels  it,  too,'1 
muttered  Prudence,  rocking  her  body  as  before  "  He  has 
had  pious  forefathers,  and  cannot  have  faU<?»  w  for  away 
from  grace,  as  to  forget  death  v 


THE    CHAINBEAKER.  393 

"  Look  you,  Prutence,  Aaron  nefer  coult  fall  away  from 
what  he  nefer  wast  fastenet  to.  As  for  pious  forefat'ers, 
t'ey  may  do  to  talk  apout  in  Fourt'  of  July  orations,  put 
t'ey  are  of  no  great  account  in  cleansin'  a  man  from  his 
sins.  I  s'pose  t'em  pious  forefat'ers  of  which  you  speak 
wast  t'e  people  t'at  first  steppet  on  t'e  Rock  town  at  Ply- 
mout' ;  put,  let  me  telt  you,  Prutence,  hat  t'ere  peen  twice 
as  many  of  t'em,  and  hat  t'ey  all  peen  twice  as  goot  as  you 
poast  of  t'eir  hafin'  peen,  it  wilt  do  no  goot  to  your  man, 
untless  he  wilt  repent,  and  pe  sorry  for  all  t'e  unlawful  ant 
wicket  t'ings  he  hast  tone  in  t'is  worlt,  ant  his  treatment  of 
pountaries  in  jin'ral,  ant  of  ot'ers  men's  lants  in  partic'lar. 
Pious  ancestors  may  pe  pleasant  to  haf,  put  goot  pehaviour 
ist  far  petter  as  t'e  last  hour  approaches." 

"  Answer  him,  Aaron,"  the  wife  rejoined — "  answer  him, 
my  man,  in  order  that  we  may  all  on  us  know  the  frame 
of  mind  in  which  you  take  your  departure.  Chainbearer 
is  a  kind-hearted  man  at  the  bottom,  and  has  never  wilfully 
done  us  any  harm." 

For  the  first  time  since  Andries  received  his  wound,  I 
now  heard  the  voice  of  Thousandacres.  Previously  to  that 
moment,  the  squatter,  whether  hurt  or  not,  had  sat  in  moody 
silence,  and  I  had  supposed  after  he  was  wounded  that  he 
was  unable  to  use  his  tongue.  To  my  surprise,  however, 
he  now  spoke  with  a  depth  and  strength  of  voice  that  at 
first  misled  me,  by  inducing  me  to  think  that  the  injury  he 
had  received  could  not  be  fatal. 

"  If  there  wasn't  no  chainbearers,"  growled  Thousand- 
acres,  "  there  wouldn't  be  no  lines,  or  metes,  and  bounds,  ai 
they  call  'em;  and  where  there's  no  metes  and  bounds, 


good  Christian,"  Prudence  returned  to  this  characteristic 
glance  at  the  past,  in  which  the  squatter  had  so  clearly 
overlooked  all  his  own  delinquencies,  and  was  anxious  to 
impute  consequences  altogether  to  others.  "  It  is  the  law 
of  God  to  forgive  your  enemies,  Aaron,  and  I  want  you  to 
forgive  Chainbearer,  and  not  go  to  the  world  of  spirits  with 
gall  in  your  heart." 

"Twoult  pe  much  petter,  Prutence,  if  T'ousantacres 


394  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

woult  pray  to  Got  to  forgif  himself,"  put  in  Chainbearer. 
"  I  am  fery  willin',  ant  happy  to  haf  t'e  forgifness  of  efery 
man,  ant  it  ist  not  unlikely  t'at  I  may  haf  tone  somet'ing, 
or  sait  somet'ing  t'at  hast  peen  hart  to  t'e  feelin's  of  your 
huspant  j  for  we  are  rough,  and  plain-speakin',  and  plain- 
actin'  enough,  in  t'e  wools ;  so  I  'm  willin'  to  haf  even 
T'ousantacres'  forgifness,  I  say,  and  wilt  accept  it  wit'  plea 
sure  if  he  wilt  offer  it,  ant  take  mine  in  exchange." 

A  deep  groan  struggled  out  of  the  broad,  cavern-like 
chest  of  the  squatter.  I  took  it  as  an  admission  that  he 
was  the  murderer  of  Andries. 

"  Yes,"    resumed   Chain  bearer,—"  Dus   hast   mate  me 

"  Uncle !"  exclaimed  Ursula,  who  was  intently  listening, 
and  who  now  spoke  because  unable  to  restrain  the  im 
pulse. 

"  Yes,  yes,  gal,  it  hast  peen  all  your  own  loin's.  Pefore 
ast  you  come  pack  from  school,  ast  we  come  into  t'e  wools, 
all  alone  like,  you  haf  nefer  forgotten  to  teach  an  oil,  for 
getful  man  his  tuty — — " 

"  Oh !  uncle  Chainbearer,  it  is  not  I,  but  God  in  his 
mercy  who  has  enlightened  your  understanding  and  touched 
your  heart." 

"  Yes,  tarlin' ;  yes,  Dus,  my  tear,  I  comprehent  t'at  too; 
but  Got  in  his  mercy  sent  an  angel  to  pe  his  minister  on 
'art'  wit'  a  poor  ignorant  Tutchman,  who  hast  not  t'e  1'arn- 
in'  ant  t'e  grace  he  might  ant  ought  to  have  hat,  wit'out 
your  ait,  and  so  hast  t'e  happy  change  come  apout.  No — 
no — T'ousantacres,  I  wilt  not  tespise  even  your  forgifness, 
little  as  you  may  haf  to  forgif;  for  it  lightens  a  man's 
heart  of  heafy  loats,  when  his  time  is  short,  to  know  he 
leafs  no  enemies  pehint  him.  T'ey  say  it  ist  pest  to  haf 
t'e  goot  wishes  of  a  log,  anl  how  much  petter  ist  it  to  haf  t'e 
goot  wishes  of  one  who  hast  a  soul  t'at  only  wants  purify- 
in',  to  twell  in  t'e  Almighty's  presence  t'roughout  eter 
nity  !" 

"  I  hope  and  believe,"  again  growled  Thousandacres, 
"  that  in  the  world  we  're  goin'  to,  there  '11  be  no  law,  and 
no  attorneys." 

"  In  t'at,  t'en,  Aaron,  you  pe  greatly  mistaken.  T'at  lant 
is  all  law,  ant  justice,  ant  right ;  t'ough,  Got  forgif  me  if  I 


THE    CHA1NBEARER.  395 

do  any  man  an  injury  ;  put  to  pe  frank  wit'  you,  as  pecomss 
two  mortals  so  near  t'eir  ents,  I  do  not  pelieve,  myself,  t'at 
t'ere  wilt  pe  a  great  many  attorneys  to  trouple  t'em  t'at  are 
receivet  into  t'e  courts  of  t'e  Almighty,  himself.  T'eir 
practices  on  'arth  does  not  suit  t'em  for  practice  in  heafen." 

"  If  you  'd  always  held  them  rational  notions,  Chain- 
bearer,  no  harm  might  have  come  to  you,  and  my  life  and 
your'n  been  spared.  But  this  is  a  state  of  being  in  which 
short-sightedness  prevails  ag'in  the  best  calkerlations.  I 
never  felt  more  sure  of  gittin'  lumber  to  market  than  I  felt, 
three  days  ago,  of  gittin'  this  that 's  in  the  creek,  safe  to 
Albany ;  and,  now,  you  see  how  it  is  !  the  b'ys  are  dis- 
parsed,  and  may  never  see  this  spot  ag'in ;  the  gals  are  in 
the  woods,  runnin'  with  the  deer  of  the  forest ;  the  lumber 
has  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  law ;  and  that,  too,  by  the 
aid  of  a  man  that  was  bound  in  honesty  to  protect  me,  and 
I  'm  dyin'  here  !" 

"  Think  no  more  of  the  lumber,  my  man,  think  no  more 
of  the  lumber,"  said  Prudence,  earnestly  ;  "  time  is  desp'rate 
short  at  the  best,  and  yours  is  shorter  than  common,  even 
for  a  man  of  seventy,  while  etarnity  has  no  eend.  Forgit 
the  boards,  and  forgit  the  b'ys,  and  forgit  the  gals,  forgit 
'arth  and  all  it  holds  ! " 

"  You  wouldn't  have  me  forgit  you,  Prudence,"  interrupted 
Thousandacres,  "  that 's  been  my  wife,  now,  forty  long 
years,  and  whom  I  tuck  when  she  was  young  and  comely, 
and  that 's  borne  me  so  many  children,  and  has  always  been 
a  faithful  and  hard-working  woman — you  wouldn't  have  me 
forget  you  /" 

This  singular  appeal,  coming  as  it  did  from  such  a  being, 
and  almost  in  his  agony,  sounded  strangely  and  solemnly, 
amid  the  wild  and  semi-savage  appliances  of  a  scene  I  can 
never  forget.  The  effect  on  Ursula  was  still  more  apparent ; 
she  left  the  bed-side  of  her  uncle,  and  with  strong  womanly 
sympathy  manifested  in  her  countenance,  approached  that 
of  this  aged  couple,  now  about  to  be  separated  for  a  short 
time,  at  least,  where  she  stood  gazing  wistfully  at  the  very 
man  who  was  probably  that  uncle's  murderer,  as  if  she 
could  gladly  administer  to  his  moral  ailings.  Even  Chain- 
bearer  attempted  to  raise  his  head,  and  looked  with  interest 
towards  the  other  group.  Nc  one  spoke,  however,  for  all 


396  THE     CHAIN  BEAKEK. 

felt  that  the  solemn  recollections  and  forebodings  of  a  pair 
so  situated,  were  too  sacred  for  interruption.  The  discourse 
went  on,  without  any  hiatus,  between  them. 

"Not  I,  not  I,  Aaron,  my  man,"  answered  Prudence, 
with  strong  emotion  struggling  in  her  voice ;  "  there  can  be 
no  law,  or  call  for  that.  We  are  one  flesh,  and  what  God 
has  j'ined,  God  will  not  keep  asunder  long.  I  cannot  tarry 
long  behind  you,  my  man,  and  when  we  meet  together 
ag'in,  I  hope  'twill  be  where  no  boards,  or  trees,  or  acres* 
can  ever  make  more  trouble  for  us !" 

"  I  've  been  hardly  treated  about  that  lumber,  a'ter  all," 
muttered  the  squatter,  who  was  now  apparently  more  aroused 
to  consciousness  than  he  had  been,  and  who  could  not  but 
keep  harping  on  what  had  been  the  one  great  business  of  his 
life,  even  as  that  life  was  crumbling  beneath  his  feet — 
"  hardly  dealt  by,  do  I  consider  myself,  about  that  lumber, 
Prudence.  Make  the  most  of  the  Littlepage  rights,  it  was 
only  trees  that  they  could  any  way  claim,  in  reason ;  while 
the  b'ys  and  I,  as  you  well  know,  have  convarted  them  trees 
into  as  pretty  and  noble  a  lot  of  handsome  boards  and 
planks,  as  man  ever  rafted  to  market !" 

"It's  convarsion  of  another  natur'  that  you  want  now, 
Aaron,  my  man ;  another  sort  of  convarsion  is  the  thing 
needful.  We  must  all  be  convarted  once  in  our  lives ;  at 
least  all  such  as  be  the  children  of  Puritan  parents  and  a 
godly  ancestry ;  and  it  must  be  owned,  takin'  into  account 
our  years,  and  the  importance  of  example  in  sich  a  family 
as  our'n,  that  you  and  I  have  put  it  off  long  enough.  Come 
it  must,  or  suthin'  worse ;  and  time  and  etarnity  in  your 
case,  Aaron,  is  pretty  much  the  same  thing." 

"  I  should  die  easier  in  mind,  Prudence,  if  Chainbearer 
would  only  admit  that  the  man  who  chops,  and  hauls,  and 
saws,  and  rafts  a  tree,  doos  get  some  sort  of  a  right,  nat'ral 
or  legal,  to  the  lumber." 

"  I  'm  sorry,  T'ousantacres,"  put  in  Andries,  "t'at  you 
feel  any  such  atmission  from  me  necessary  to  you  at  t'is 
awful  moment,  since  I  nefer  can  make  it  ast  an  honest  man. 
You  hat  petter  listen  to  your  wife,  ant  get  confarted  if  you 
can,  ant  as  soon  ast  you  can.  You  ant  I  haf  put  a  few 
hours  to  lif;  I  am  an  olt  soltier,  T'ousantacres,  ant  haf  seen 
more  t'an  free  t'ousant  men  shot  town  in  my  own  ranks,  to 


THE    CHAINBEAR2R.  397 

say  nut'in'  of  t'e  ranks  of  t'e  enemy ;  ant  wit'  so  much  ex- 
per'ence  a  man  comes  to  know  a  little  apout  wounts  ant 
t'eir  tarminations.  I  gif  it  ast  my  chugement,  t'erefore,  t'at 
neit'er  of  us  can  haf  t'e  smallest  hope  to  lif  t' rough  t'e  next 
night.  So  get  t'at  confarsion  as  hastily  ant  ast  well  ast  you 
can,  for  t'ere  ist  little  time  to  lose,  ant  you  a  squatter !  T'is 
ist  t'e  moment  of  all  ot'ers,  T'ousantacres,  to  proofe  t'e  true 
falue  of  professions,  ant  trates,  ant  callin's,  as  well  ast  of 
t'e  manner  in  which  t'eir  tuties  haf  peen  fulh'llet.  It  may 
pe  more  honouraple  ant  more  profitaple  to  pe  a  calculating 
surfeyor,  ant  to  unterstant  arit'metic,  ant  to  pe  talket  of  in 
t'e  work  for  work  tone  on  a  large  scale ;  put  efen  His  Ex 
cellency  himself,  when  he  comes  to  t'e  last  moment,  may  pe 
glat  t'at  t'e  temptations  of  such  Parnin',  ant  his  pein'  so  t'o- 
roughly  an  honest  man,  toes  not  make  him  enfy  t'e  state  of 
a  poor  chainpearer  ;  who,  if  he  titn't  know  much,  ant  coultn't 
do  much,  at  least  measuret  t'e  lant  wit'  fitelily,  ant  tid  his 
work  ast  well  ast  he  knew  how.  Yes,  yes,  olt  Aaron ;  get 
confartet,  I  tell  you  ;  ant  shoult  Prutence  not  know  enough 
of  religion  ant  her  piple,  ant  of  prayin'  to  Got  to  haf  marcy 
on  your  soul,  t'ere  ist  Dus  Malpone,  my  niece,  who  unter- 
stants,  ant  what  ist  far  petter,  who  feels  t'ese  matters,  quite 
as  well  ast  most  tominies,  ant  petter  t'an*  some  lazy  ant  sel 
fish  ones  t'at  I  know,  who  treat  t'eir  flocks  as  if  t'e  Lort 
meant  t'ey  wast  to  pe  shearet  only,  ant  who  wast  too  lazy 
to  do  much  more  t'an  to  keep  cryin'  out — not  in  t'e  worts 
of  t'e  inspire!  writer, — 'watchman,  what  of  t'e  night?' — 
'  watchman,  what  of  t'e  night?' — put, c  my  pelovet,  ant  most 
Christian,  ant  gotly-mintet  people,  pay,  pay,  pay  P  Yes, 
t'ere  ist  too  much  of  such  afarice  ant  selfishness  in  t'e  worlt, 
ant  it  toes  harm  to  t'e  cause  of  t'e  Safiour ;  put  trut'  is  so 
clear  ant  peautiful  an  opject,  my  poor  Aaron,  t'at  efen  lies, 
ant  fice,  ant  all  manner  of  wicketnesses  cannot  long  sully 
it.  Take  my  atvice,  ant  talk  to  Dus ;  ant  t'ough  you  wilt 
touptless  continue  to  grow  worse  in  poty,  you  wilt  grow 
petter  in  spirit." 

Thousandacres  turned  his  grim  visage  round,  and  gazed 

intently  and  wistfully  towards  Ursula.     I  saw  the  struggle 

that  was  going  on  within,  through  the  clear  mirror  of  the 

sweet,  ingenuous  face  of  my  beloved,  and  I  saw  the  pro 

34 


$98  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

priety  of  ret  ring.     Frank  Malbone  understood  my  look,  and 
we  left  the  house  together;  closing  the  door  behind  us. 

Two,  to  me,  long  and  anxious  hours  succeeded,  during 
most  of  which  time  my  companion  and  myself  walked  about 
the  clearing,  questioning  the  men  who  composed  the  posse, 
and  hearing  their  reports.  These  men  were  in  earnest  in 
what  they  were  doing ;  for  a  respect  for  law  is  a  distinguish 
ing  trait  in  the  American  character,  and  perhaps  more  so  in 
New  England,  whence  most  of  these  people  came,  than  in 
any  other  part  of  the  country ;  the  rascality  of  'Squire 
Newcome  to  the  contrary,  notwithstanding.  Some  observers 
pretend  that  this  respect  for  law  is  gradually  decreasing 
among  us,  and  that  in  its  place  is  sensibly  growing  up  a 
disposition  to  substitute  the  opinions,  wishes,  and  interests 
of  local  majorities,  making  the  country  subject  to  men  in 
stead  of  principles.  The  last  are  eternal  and  immutable ; 
and,  coming  of  God,  men,  however  unanimous  in  sentiment, 
have  no  more  right  to  attempt  to  change  them,  than  to  blas 
pheme  His  holy  name.  All  that  the  most  exalted  and  largest 
political  liberty  can  ever  beneficially  effect  is,  to  apply  these 
principles  to  the  good  of  the  human  race,  in  the  management 
of  their  daily  affairs ;  but,  when  they  attempt  to  substitute 
for  these  pure  and  just  rules  of  right,  laws  conceived  in 
selfishness  and  executed  by  the  power  of  numbers,  they 
merely  exhibit  tyranny  in  its  popular  form,  instead  of  in  its 
old  aspect  of  kingly  or  aristocratic  abuses.  It  is  a  fatal 
mistake  to  fancy,  that  freedom  is  gained  by  the  mere  achieve 
ment  of  a  right  in  the  people  to  govern,  unless  the  manner 
in  which  that  right  is  to  be  both  understood  and  practised, 
is  closely  incorporated  with  all  the  popular  notions  of  what 
has  been  obtained.  That  right  to  govern  means  no  more, 
than  the  right  of  the  people  to  avail  themselves  of  the  power 
thus  acquired,  to  apply  the  great  principles  of  justice  to 
their  own  benefit,  and  from  the  possession  of  which  they  had 
hitherto  been  excluded.  It  confers  no  power  to  do  that 
which  is  inherently  wrong,  under  any  pretence  whatever ; 
nor  would  anything  have  been  gained,  had  America,  as  soon 
as  she  relieved  herself  from  a  sway  that  diverted  so  many 
of  her  energies  to  the  increase  of  the  wealth  and  influence 
of  a  distant  people,  gone  to  work  to  frame  a  new  polity 
which  should  inflict  a.milar  wrongs  within  her  own  bosom. 


1?  II  IS    CHAINBfcAUER.  399 

My  old  acquaintance,  the  hearty  Rhode  Islander,  was  one 
of  the  posse ;  and  I  had  a  short  conversation  with  him, 
while  thus  kept  out  of  the  house,  which  may  serve  to  let  the 
reader  somewhat  into  the  secret  of  the  state  of  things  at  the 
clearing.  We  met  near  the  mill,  when  my  acquaintance, 
whose  name  was  Hosmer,  commenced  a»  follows  z 

"A  good  day  to  you,  major,  and  a  hearty  welcome  to  the 
open  air  !"  cried  the  sturdy  yeoman,  frankly  but  respectfully, 
offering  his  hand.  "  You  fell  into  a  pit  here,  or  into  a  den 
among  thieves;  and  it's  downright  providential  you  ever 
saw  and  breathed  the  clear  air  ag'in  1  Wa-a-1,  I  've  been 
trailin'  a  little  this  mornin',  along  with  the  Injin ;  and  no 
hound  has  a  more  sartain  scent  than  he  has.  We  went 
into  the  hollow  along  the  creek ;  and  a  desp'rate  sight  of 
boards  them  varmints  have  got  into  the  water,  I  can  tell  you  I 
If  the  lot 's  worth  forty  pounds  York,  it  must  be  worth  every 
shilling  of  five  hundred.  They  'd  a  made  their  fortin's, 
every  blackguard  among  'em.  I  don't  know  but  I'd  fit 
myself  to  save  so  many  boards,  and  sich  beautiful  boards, 
whether  wrongfully  or  rightfully  lumbered  !" 

Here  the  hearty  old  fellow  stopped  to  laugh,  which  he  did 
exactly  in  the  full-mouthed,  contented  way  in  which  he  spoke 
and  did  everything  else.  I  profited  by  the  occasion  to  put 
in  a  word  in  reply. 

"  You  are  too  honest  a  man,  major,  to  think  of  ever  mak 
ing  your  boards  out  of  another  man's  trees,"  I  answered. 
"This  people  have  lived  by  dishonest  practices  all  their 
lives,  and  any  one  can  see  what  it  has  come  to." 

"  Yes,  I  hope  I  am,  'squire  Littlepage — I  do  hope  I  am. 
Hard  work  and  I  an't  no  how  afeard  of  each  other ;  and 
so  long  as  a  man  can  work,  and  will  work,  Satan  don't 
get  a  full  grip  on  him.  But,  as  I  was  sayin',  the  Track 
less  struck  the  trail  down  the  creek,  though  it  was  along  a 
somewhat  beaten  path;  but  that  Injin  would  make  no 
more  of  findin'  it  in  a  highway,  than  you  and  I  would  of 
findin'  our  places  in  the  Bible  on  Sabba'day,  where  we  had 
left  off  the  Sabba'day  that  was  gone.  I  always  mark  mine 
with  a  string  the  old  woman  braided  for  me  on  purpose,  and 
a  right  down  good  method  it  is ;  for,  while  you  're  s'archin' 
for  your  specs  with  one  hand,  nothin'  is  easier  than  to  open 
the  Bible  with  t'other.  Them 's  handy  things  to  have,  major  ,* 


400  THE     CHAINBEAREft, 

and,  when  you  marry  some  great  lady  down  at  York,  sich 
a  one  as  your  own  mother  was,  for  1  know'd  her"  and  ho 
noured  her,  as  we  all  did  hereaway — but,  when  you  get 
married,  ask  your  wife  to  braid  a  string  for  you,  to  find  the 
place  in  the  Bible  with,  and  all  will  go  right,  take  an  old 
man's  word  for.  it." 

"  I  thank  you,  friend,  and  will  remember  the  advice, 
even  though  I  might  happen  to  marry  a  lady  in  this  part 
of  the  world,  and  not  down  in  York." 

"  This  part  of  the  world  1  No,  we  Ve  got  nobody  our 
way,  that 's  good  enough  for  you.  Let  me  see ;  Newcome 
has  a  da'ghter  that 's  old  enough,  but  she 's  desp'rate  humbly 
(Anglise,  homely  —  the  people  of  New  England  reserve 
*  ugly'  for  moral  qualities)  and  wouldn't  suit,  no  how.  I 
don't  think  the  Littlepages  would  overmuch  like  being  warp 
and  fillin'  with  the  Newcomes." 

"  No !  My  father  was  an  old  friend— or,  an  old  acquaint 
ance  at  least,  of  Mr.  Newcome's,  and  must  know  and  ap 
preciate  his  merits." 

"Yes  —  yes  —  I'll  warrant  ye  the  gin'ral  knows  him, 
Wa-a-I !  Human  natur'  is  human  natur' ;  and  I  do  s'pose, 
if  truth  must  be  spoken,  none  on  us  be  half  as  good  as  we 
ought  to  be.  We  t  read  about  faithful  stewards  in  the  good 
book,  and  about  onfaithful  ones  too,  squire"  —  here,  the  old 
yeoman  stopped  to  indulge  in  one  of  his  hearty  laughs,  ren 
dering  it  manifest  he  felt  the  full  application  of  his  words. 
"  Wa-a-1,  all  must  allow  the  bible's  a  good  book;  I  never 
open  it,  without  1'arnin'  suthin',  and  what  I  1'arn,  I  strive 
not  to  forgit.  But  there 's  a  messenger  for  you,  major,  from 
Thousandacres'  hut,  and  I  fancy  't  will  turn  out  that  he  or 
Chainbearer  is  drawing  near  his  eend." 

Lowiny  was  coming  to  summon  us  to  the  house,  sure 
enough,  and  I  took  my  leave  of  my  brother  major  for  the 
moment.  It  was  plain  to  me  that  this  honest-minded  yeo 
man,  a  good  specimen  of  his  class,  saw  through  Newcome 
and  his  tricks,  and  was  not  unwilling  to  advert  to  them.. 
Nevertheless,  this  man  had  a  fault,  and  one  very  charac 
teristic  of  his  "  order"  He  could  not  speak  directly,  but 
would  hint  round  a  subject,  instead  of  coming  out  at  once, 
and  telling  what  he  had  to  say ;  beating  the  bush  to  start 
his  ganie,  when  he  might  have  put  it  up  at  once,  by  going 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  401 

in  at  it  directly.  Before  we  parted,  he  gave  me  to  under 
stand  that  Susquesus  and  my  fellow,  Jaap,  had  gone  on  in 
pursuit  of  the  retreating  squatters,  intending  to  follow  their 
trail  several  miles,  in  order  to  make  sure  that  Tobit  and  his 
gang  were  not  hanging  around  the  clearing  to  watch  their 
property,  ready  to  strike  a  blow  when  it  might  be  least  ex 
pected. 

Dus  met  me  at  the  door  of  the  cabin,  tearful  and  sad,  but 
with  such  a  holy  calm  reigning  in  her  generally  brilliant 
countenance,  as  denoted  the  nature  of  the  solemn  business 
in  which  she  had  just  been  engaged.  She  extended  both 
hands  to  meet  mine,  and  whispered,  "  Uncle  Chainbearer  is 
anxious  to  speak  to  us — on  the  subject  of  our  engagement,  I 
think  it  is."  A  tremour  passed  through  the  frame  of  Ursula , 
but  she  made  an  effort,  smiled  sadly,  and  continued  :  "  Hear 
him  patiently,  dear  Mordaunt,  and  remember  that  he  is  my 
father,  in  one  sense,  and  as  fully  entitled  to  my  obedience 
and  respect  as  if  I  were  really  his  daughter." 

As  I  entered  the  room,  I  could  see  that  Dus  had  been  at 
prayer.  Prudence  looked  comforted,  but  Thousandacres, 
himself,  had  a  wild  and  uncertain  expression  of  countenance, 
as  if  doubts  had  begun  to  beset  him,  at  the  very  moment 
when  they  must  have  been  the  most  tormenting.  I  observed 
that  his  anxious  eye  followed  the  form  of  Dus,  and  that  he 
gazed  on  her  as  one  would  be  apt  to  regard  the  being  who 
had  just  been  the  instrument  of  awakening  within  him  the 
consciousness  of  his  critical  state.  But  my  attention  was 
soon  drawn  to  the  other  bed. 

"  Come  near  me,  Mortaunt,  lat ;  ant  come  hit'er,  Dus,  my 
tearest  ta'ghter  ant  niece.  I  haf  a  few  worts  of  importance 
to  say  to  you,  pefore  I  go,  ant  if  t'ey  pe  not  sait  now,  fey 
nefer  may  pe  sait  at  all.  It's  always  pest  to  c  take  time  py 
t'e  forelock,'  t'ey  say  ;  ant  surely  I  cannot  pe  callet  in  haste 
to  speak,  when  not  only  one  foot,  put  pot'  feet  and  half  my 
poty,  in  t'e  pargain,  may  well  pe  sait  to  pe  in  t'e  grafe. 
Now  listen  to  an  olt  man's  atfice,  ant  do  not  stop  my  worts 
until  all  haf  peen  spoken,  for  I  grow  weatv  fast,  ant  haf  not 
strength  enough  to  t'row  away  any  of  it  in  argument. 

"  Mortaunt  hast  sait  ast  much,  in  my  hearin',  ast  to  atmit 
t'at  he  lofes  ant  atmires  my  gal,  ant  t'at  he  wishes,  ant 
hopes,  ant  expects  to  make  her  his  wife.  On  t'e  ot'er  hant, 
34* 


402  THE    CHAINBEARUR. 

Ursula,  or  Dus,  my  niece,  confesses  ant  acknowletges  t'at 
she  lofes,  ant  esteems,  ant  hast  a  strong  regart  for  Mortaunt, 
ant  1st  willing  to  pecome  his  wife.  All  t'is  ist  nat'ral,  ant 
t'ere  wast  a  time  when  it  woult  haf  mate  me  ast  happy  ast 
t'e  lay  ist  long  to  hear  as  much  sait  by  t'e  one  or  t'e  ot'er 
of  t'e  parties.  You  know,  my  chiltren,  t'at  my  affection  for 
you  ist  equal,  ant  t'at  I  consiter  you,  in  all  respects  put  t'at 
of  worltly  contition,  to  pe  as  well  suitet  to  pecome  man  ant 
wife  ast  any  young  couple  in  America.  Put  tuty  is  tuty, 
ant  it  must  pe  tischarget.  General  Littlepage  wast  my  olt 
colonel ;  ant,  an  honest  ant  an  honouraple  man  himself,  he 
hast  efery  right  to  expect  t'at  efery  one  of  his  former  cap- 
tains,  in  partic'lar,  woult  do  unto  him  as  t'ey  woult  haf  him 
do  unto  t'em.  Now,  t'ough  heafen  ist  heafen,  t'is  worlt 
must  pe  regartet  as  t'is  worlt,  ant  t'e  rules  for  its  gofern- 
ment  are  to  pe  respectet  in  t'eir  place.  T'e  Malpones  pe  a 
respectaple  family,  I  know  ;  ant  t'ough  Dus'  own  fat'er  wast 
a  little  wilt,  ant  t'oughtless,  ant  extrafagant " 

"  Uncle  Chainbearer !" 

**  True,  gal,  true ;  he  wast  your  fat'er,  ant  t'e  chilt  shoult 
respect  its  parent.  I  atmit  t'at,  ant  wilt  say  no  more  t'an 
ist  apsolutely  necessary ;  pesites,  if  Mai  pone  hat  his  pat 
qualities,  he  hat  his  goot.  A  hantsomer  man  coult  not  pe 
fount,  far  ant  near,  ast  my  poor  sister  felt,  I  dares  to  say ; 
ant  he  wast  prave  as  a  pull-dog,  ant  generous,  ant  goot- 
naturet,  ant  many  persons  was  quite  captivatet  by  all  t'ese 
showy  atfantages,  ant  t'ought  him  petter  ast  he  really  wast. 
Yes,  yes,  Dus,  my  chilt,  he  hat  his  goot  qualities,  as  well 
ast  his  pat.  Put,  t'e  Malpones  pe  gentlemen,  as  ist  seen  py 
Frank,  Dus'  prother,  ant  py  ot'er  mempers  of  t'e  family. 
T'en  my  mot'er's  family,  py  which  I  am  relatet  to  Dus, 
wast  very  goot — even  petter  t'an  t'e  Coejemans — and  t'e 
gal  is  a  gentlewoman  py  pirt'.  No  one  can  deny  t'at ;  put 
ploot  won't  do  efery  t'ing.  Chiltren  must  pe  fet,  and  clot'et ; 
ant  money  ist  necessary,  a'ter  all,  for  t'e  harmony  ant  com 
fort  of  families.  I  know  Matam  Littlepage,  in  partic'lar. 
She  ist  a  da'ter  of  olt  Harman  Mortaunt,  who  wast  a  grant 
gentleman  in  t'e  lant,  ant  t'e  owner  of  Ravensnest,  ast  well 
ast  of  ot'er  estates,  ant  who  kept  t'e  highest  company  in  t'e 
profince.  Now  Matam  Littlepage,  who  hast  peen  t'us  born, 
ant  etucatet,  ant  associatet,  may  not  like  t'e  itee  of  hafia 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  403 

Dus  Malpone,  a  chainpearer's  niece,  ant  a  gal  t'at  hast  peen 
chainpearer  herself,  for  which  I  honour  ant  lofe  her  so  much 
t'e  more,  Mortaunt,  lat ;  put  for  which  an  ilUchutgin'  worlt 
wilt  despise  her " 

"  My  mother — my  noble-hearted,  right-judging  and  right- 
feeling  mother-^-never !"  I  exclaimed,  in  a  burst  of  feeling 
I  found  it  impossible  to  control. 

My  words,  manner  and  earnestness  produced  a  profound 
impression  on  my  auditors.  A  gleam  of  pained  delight  shot 
into  and  out  of  the  countenance  of  Ursula,  like  the  passage 
of  the  electric  spark.  Chainbearer  gazed  on  me  intently, 
and  it  was  easy  to  trace,  in  the  expression  of  his  face,  the 
deep  interest  he  felt  in  my  words,  and  the  importance  he  at 
tached  to  them.  As  for  Frank  Malbone,  he  fairly  turned 
away  to  conceal  the  tears  that  forced  themselves  from  his 
eyes. 

"  If  I  coult  t'ink  ast  much — if  I  coult  hope  ast  much,  Mor 
taunt,"  resumed  Chainbearer,  "  it  woult  pe  a  plesset  relief 
to  my  partin'  spirit,  for  I  know  general  Littlepage  well 
enough  to  pe  sartain  t'at  he  ist  a  just  ant  a  right-mintet  man, 
ant  t'at,  in  t'e  long  run,  he  woult  see  matters  ast  he  ought 
to  see  fern.  Wit'  Matam  Littlepage  I  fearet  it  wast  tiffer- 
ent ;  for  I  haf  always  hearet  t'at  t'e  Mortaunts  was  tifferent 
people,  ant  felt  ast  toppin'  people  commonly  do  feel.  T'is 
makes  some  change  in  my  itees,  ant  some  change  in  my 
plans.  Howesefer,  my  young  frients,  I  haf  now  to  ask  of 
you  each  a  promise — a  solemn  promise  mate  to  a  tyin'  man- 
ant  it  ist  t'is " 

"  First  hear  me,  Chainbearer,"  I  interposed  eagerly,  "  be 
fore  you  involve  Ursula  heedlessly,  and  I  had  almost  said 
cruelly,  in  any  incautious  promise,  that  may  make  both  our 
lives  miserable  hereafter.  You,  yourself,  first  invited,  tempt 
ed,  courted  me  to  love  her;  and  now,  when  I  know  and 
confess  her  worth,  you  throw  ice  on  my  flame,  and  com 
mand  me  to  do  that  of  which  it  is  too  late  to  think." 

"  I  own  it,  I  own  it,  lat,  ant  hope  t'e  Lort,  in  his  great 
marcy,  wilt  forgif  ant  parton  t'e  great  mistake  I  mate.  We 
haf  talket  of  t'is  pefore,  Mortaunt,  ant  you  may  rememper 
I  toll  you  it  was  Dus,  herself,  who  first  mate  me  see  t'e  trut' 
in  t'e  matter,  ant  how  much  petter  ant  more  pecomin'  it  wast 


404  THECHAINBEARER. 

in  me  to  holt  you  pack,  t'an  to  encourage  ant  leat  you  on. 
How  comes  it,  my  tear  gal,  fat  you  haf  forgot  all  Vis,  ant 
now  seem  to  wish  me  to  do  t'e  fery  t'ing  you  atviset  me  not 
to  do?" 

Ursula's  face  became  pale  as  death  ;  then  it  flushed  to  the 
brightness  of  a  summer  sunset,  and  she  sank  on  her  knees, 
concealing  her  countenance  in  the  coarse  quilt  of  the  bed, 
as  her  truthful  and  ingenuous  nature  poured  out  her  answer. 

"  Uncle  Chainbearer,"  she  said,  "  when  we  first  talked  on 
this  subject  I  had  never  seen  Mordaunt." 

I  knelt  at  the  side  of  Ursula,  folded  her  to  my  bosom,  and 
endeavoured  to  express  the  profound  sentiment  of  gratitude 
that  I  felt  at  hearing  this  ingenuous  explanation,  by  such 
caresses  as  nature  and  feeling  dictated.  Dus,  however, 
gently  extricated  herself  from  my  arms,  and  rising,  we  both 
stood  waiting  the  effect  of  what  had  just  been  seen  and  heard 
on  Chainbearer. 

"  I  see  t'at  natur'  is  stronger  t'an  reason,  ant  opinion,  ant 
custom,"  the  old  man  resumed,  after  a  long,  meditative 
pause — "  I  haf  put  little  time  to  spent  in  t'is  matter,  hous- 
efer,  my  chiltren,  ant  must  pring  it  to  a  close.  Promise 
me,  pot'  of  you,  t'at  you  will  nefer  marry  wit'out  t'e  free 
consent  of  General  Littlepage,  ant  t'at  of  olt  Matam  Little- 
page,  ant  young  Matam  Littlepage,  each  or  all  pein'  lifin'." 

"  I  do  promise  you,  uncle  Chainbearer,"  said  Dus,  with  a 
promptitude  that  I  could  hardly  pardon  —  "I  do  promise 
you,  and  will  keep  my  promise,  as  I  love  you  and  fear  and 
honour  my  Maker.  'T  would  be  misery,  to  me,  to  enter  a 
family  that  was  not  willing  to  receive  me — " 

"  Ursula  ! — Dearest — dearest  Ursula — do  you  reflect  I— 
Am  I,  then,  nothing  in  yotir  eyes  ?" 

"  It  would  also  be  misery  to  live  without  you,  Mordaunt — 
but  in  one  case  I  should  be  supported  by  a  sense  of  having 
discharged  my  duty  ;  while  in  the  other,  all  that  went  wrong 
would  appear  a  punishment  for  my  own  errors." 

I  would  not  promise ;  for,  to  own  the  truth,  while  I  never 
distrusted  my  father  or  mother  for  a  single  instant,  I  did 
distrust  my  dear  and  venerable  grandmother.  I  knew  that 
she  had  not  only  set  her  heart  on  my  marrying  Priscilla 
Bayard ;  but  that  she  had  a  passion  for  making  matches  in 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  405 

her  own  family ;  and  I  feared  that  she  might  have  some  of 
the  tenacity  of  old  age  in  maintaining  her  opinions.  Dus 
endeavoured  to  prevail  on  me  to  promise ;  but  I  evaded  the 
pledge  ;  and  all  solicitations  were  abandoned  in  consequence 
of  a  remark  that  was  soon  after  made  by  Chainbearer. 

"Nefer  mint  —  nefer  mint,  darlint ;  your  promise  is 
enough.  So  long  as  you  pe  true,  what  matters  it  w'et'er 
Mortaunt  is  heatstrong  or  not  7  Ant  now,  children,  ast  I 
wish  to  talk  no  more  of  t'e  matters  of  t'is  worlt,  put  to  gif 
all  my  metitations  ant  language  to  t'e  t'ings  of  Got,  I  wilt 
utter  my  partin'  worts  to  you.  W'et'er  you  marry  or  not, 
I  pray  Almighty  Got  to  gif  you  his  pest  plessin's  in  t'is  life, 
ant  in  t'at  which  ist  to  come.  Lif  in  sich  a  way,  my  tear 
chiltren,  as  to  pe  aple  to  meet  t'is  awful  moment,  in  which 
you  see  me  placed,  wit'  hope  ant  joy,  so  t'at  we  may  all 
meet  hereafter  in  t'e  courts  of  Heafen.  Amen." 

A  short,  solemn  pause  succeeded  this  benediction,  when 
it  was  interrupted  by  a  fearful  groan,  that  struggled  out  of 
the  broad  chest  of  Thousandacres.  All  eyes  were  turned 
on  the  other  bed,  which  presented  a  most  impressive  con 
trast  to  the  calm  scene  that  surrounded  the  parting  soul  of 
him  about  whom  we  had  been  gathered.  I  alone  advanced 
to  the  assistance  of  Prudence,  who,  woman-like,  clung  to 
her  husband  to  the  last ;  *  bone  of  his  bone,  and  flesh  of  his 
flesh.'  I  must  own,  however,  that  horror  paralyzed  my 
limbs ;  and  that  when  I  got  as  far  as  the  foot  of  the  squat 
ter's  bed,  I  stood  riveted  to  the  place  like  a  rooted  tree. 

Thousandacres  had  been  raised,  by  means  of  quilts,  until 
half  his  body  lay  almost  in  a  sitting  position ;  a  change  he 
had  ordered  during  the  previous  scene.  His  eyes  were 
open  ;  ghastly,  wandering,  hopeless.  As  the  lips  contracted 
with  the  convulsive  twitchings  of  death,  they  gave  to  his 
grim  visage  a  species  of  sardonic  grin  that  rendered  it 
doubly  terrific.  At  this  moment  a  sullen  calm  came  over 
the  countenance,  and  all  was  still.  I  knew  that  the  last 
breath  remained  to  be  drawn,  and  waited  for  it  as  the 
charmed  bird  gazes  at  the  basilisk-eye  of  the  snake.  It  came, 
drawing  aside  the  lips  so  as  to  show  every  tooth,  and  not 
one  was  missing  in  that  iron  frame ;  when,  finding  the  sight 
too  frightful  for  even  my  nerves,  I  veiled  my  eyes.  When 
my  hand  was  removed,  I  caught  one  glimpse  of  that  dark 


406  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

tenement  in  which  the  spirit  of  the  murderer  and  squatter 
had  so  long  dwelt,  Prudence  being  in  the  act  of  closing  the 
glary,  but  still  fiery  eyes.  I  never  before  had  looked  upon 
so  revolting  a  corpse ;  and  never  wish  to  see  its  equal  again. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


*'  Mild  as  a  babe  reclines  himself  to  rest, 
And  smiling  sleeps  upon  the  mother's  breast — 
Tranquil,  and  with  a  patriarch's  hope,  he  gave 
His  soul  to  heaven,  his  body  to  the  grave. 

HARTE. 

I  SAW  that  neither  Chainbearer  nor  Dus  looked  at  the  re 
volting  object  presented  in  the  corpse  of  Thousandacres, 
after  that  selfish  and  self-willed  being  ceased  to  live.  I  had 
another  hut  prepared  immediately  for  its  reception,  and  the 
body  was  removed  to  it  without  delay.  Thither  Prudence 
accompanied  the  senseless  body ;  and  there  she  passed  the 
remainder  of  the  day,  and  the  whole  of  the  succeeding 
night,  attended  by  Lowiny — with  occasional  offers  of  food 
and  assistance  from  the  men  of  the  posse.  Two  or  three 
of  the  latter,  carpenters  by  trade,  made  a  coffin  of  pine, 
and  the  body  was  placed  in  it  in  the  customary  manner. 
Others  dug  a  grave  in  the  centre  of  one  of  those  rough 
fields  that  the  squatter  had  appropriated  to  his  own  uses, 
thus  making  everything  ready  for  the  interment,  as  soon  as 
the  coroner,  who  had  been  sent  for,  should  have  had  his 
sitting  over  the  body. 

The  removal  of  the  remains  of  Thousandacres  left  a  soic 
of  holy  calm  in  the  cabin  of  Chainbearer.  My  old  friend 
was  fast  sinking ;  and  he  said  but  little.  His  consciousness 
continued  to  the  last,  and  Dus  was  often  at  prayer  with  him 
in  the  course  of  that  day.  Frank  and  I  aided  in  doing  the 
duty  of  nurses ;  and  we  prevailed  on  Ursula  to  retire  to 
the  loft,  and  catch  some  rest,  after  her  unwearying  watch 
fulness.  It  was  near  sunset  that  old  Andries  again  ad- 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  401 

dressed  himself  particularly  to  me,  who  was  sitting  at  his 
side,  Dus  being  then  asleep. 

"  I  shall  lif  till  mornin',  I  now  fint,  Mortaunt,"  he  said ; 
"  put,  let  deal'  come  when  it  wilt,  it  ist  sent  py  my  Lort 
ant  Maker,  ant  it  ist  welcome.  Deat'  hast  no  fears  for 
me." 

"  He  never  had,  captain  Coejemans,  as  the  history  of 
your  whole  career  in  the  army  shows." 

"  Yes,  lat,  t'ere  wast  a  time  when  I  shoult  haf  peen  glat 
to  haf  peen  shot  on  t'e  fielt,  and  to  haf  diet  wit'  Montgomery, 
ant  Laurens,  ant  Wooster,  ant  Warren,  and  sich  like  gal 
lant  heroes  ;  put  t'at  ist  all  gone,  now.  I  'm  like  a  man  t'at 
hast  peen  walkin'  over  a  wite  plain,  ant  who  hast  come  to 
its  tarmination,  where  he  sees  pefore  him  an  entless  apyss 
into  which  he  must  next  step.  At  sich  a  sight,  lat,  all  t'e 
trouples,  ant  lapours,  ant  tifficulties  of  t'e  plain  seem  so 
triflin',  t'at  t'ey  pe  forgotten.  Mint,  I  do  not  wish  to  say 
t'at  eternity  is  an  apyss  to  me  in  fears,  ant  pains,  ant 
tespair;  for  t'e  gootness  of  Got  hast  enlightenet  my  mint 
on  t'at  supject,  ant  hope,  ant  love,  ant  longin'  for  t'e  pre 
sence  of  my  Maker,  stant  in  t'eir  places.  Mortaunt,  my  lat, 
pefore  I  quit  you,  I  coult  wish  to  say  a  coople  of  worts  to 
you  on  t'is  sacret  supject,  if  't  will  gif  no  offence  ?" 

"  Say  all,  and  what  you  please,  dear  Chainbearer.  We 
are  friends  of  the  camp  and  the  field,  and  the  advice  of  no 
one  could  be  more  welcome  to  me  than  yours,  given  at  a 
moment  as  solemn  and  truthful  as  this." 

"  T'ank  ye,  Mortaunt ;  t'ank  ye  wit'  all  my  heart.  You 
know  how  it  hast  peen  wit'  me,  since  poyhoot ;  for  often  ant 
often  you  ant  I  haf  talket  over  t'ese  t'ings  in  camp.  I  wast 
t'rown  young  upon  t'e  worlt,  ant  wast  left  wit'out  fat'er,  or 
mot'er,  to  pring  myself  up.  An  only  chilt  of  my  own 
fat'er,  for  Dus  comes  from  a  half-sister  you  know,  t'ere 
wast  no  one  to  care  for  me  in  partic'lar,  and  I  growet  up  in 
great  ignorance  of  t'e  Lort  of  Hosts,  ant  my  tuties  to  him, 
ant  to  his  plesset  son,  more  ast  anyt'ing  else.  Well,  Mor 
taunt,  you  know  how  it  ist  in  t'e  woots,  ant  in  t'e  army.  A 
man  neet  not  pe  fory  pat,  to  pe  far  from  pein'  as  goot  as  ist 
expectet  of  him  by  t'e  Almighty,  who  gafe  him  his  soul, 
ant  who  reteemet  him  from  his  sins,  ant  who  holts  out  taily 
t'e  means  of  grace.  When  I  come  here,  wit'  Dus,  a  chill 


408  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

knewest  almost  as  much  of  t'e  real  natur'  of  religion  ast  I 
knewest.  Put,  t'at  precious  gal,  t'rough  Divine  grace,  hast 
peen  t'e  means  of  pringin'  an  olt  ant  ignorant  man  to  a 
sense  of  his  true  contition,  ant  to  petter  hapits,  fan  t'ose 
you  knowet  in  him.  Once  I  lovet  a  frolick,  Mortaunt,  and 
punch  ant  ot'er  savoury  liquors  wast  fery  pleasant  to  me ; 
ay,  ant  even  a'ter  years  might  ant  shoult  haf  teachet  me 
t'e  folly  of  sich  ways.  Put  you  haf  not  seen  t'e  glass  at 
my  lips  t'is  summer,  lat,  at  unseemly  moments,  or  in  un 
seemly  numpers  of  times,  ant  t'at  ist  owin'  to  t'e  confersa- 
tions  I  haf  hat  wit'  Dus  on  t'e  supject.  It  woult  haf  tone 
your  heart  goot,  Mortaunt,  to  haf  seen  t'e  tear  gal  seated 
on  my  knee,  combin'  my  olt  grey  hairs  wit'  her  telicate 
white  fingers,  ant  playin'  wit  my  hart,  ret  cheeks,  ast  t'e 
vnfstnt  plays  wit'  t'e  cheeks  of  t'e  mot'er,  whilst  she  talket 
to  me  of  t'e  history  of  Christ,  ant  his  sufFerin's  for  us  all — 
ant  toll  me  t'e  way  to  learn  to  know  my  safiour  in  trut'  ant 
sincerity  !  You  t'ink  Dus  hantsome ;  ant  pleasant  to  look 
upon  ;  ant  pleasant  to  talk  wit' — put  you  can  nefer  know  t'e 
gal  in  her  colours  of  golt,  Mortaunt,  till  she  pegins  to  con 
verse  wit'  you,  unreservetly,  apout  Got  ant  retemption !" 

"  I  can  believe  anything  in  favour  of  Ursula  Malbone, 
my  dear  Chain  bearer ;  and  no  music  could  be  sweeter,  to 
my  ears,  than  thus  to  hear  you  pronouncing  her  praise." 

The  death  of  Chainbearer  occurred,  as  he  had  himself 
prognosticated,  about  the  time  of  the  return  of  light  on  the 
succeeding  morning.  A  more  tranquil  end  I  never  wit 
nessed.  He  ceased  to  suffer  pain  hours  before  he  drew  his 
last  breath  ;  but  he  had  whispered  to  me,  in  the  course  of  that 
day,  that  he  endured  agony  at  moments.  He  wished  me  to 
conceal  the  fact  from  Dus,  however,  lest  it  should  increase 
her  grief.  "  So  long  ast  t'e  tear  gal  ist  in  ignorance  of  my 
sufFerin's,"  the  excellent  old  man  added  in  his  whisper, 
"  she  cannot  feel  so  much  for  me ;  since  she  must  have  con- 
fitence  in  t'e  value  of  her  own  goot  work,  ant  s'pose  me  to 
pe  only  trawin'  nearer  to  happiness.  Put,  you  ant  I  know, 
Mortaunt,  t'at  men  are  not  often  shot  t'rough  t'e  poty  wit'- 
out  feelin'  much  pain ;  ant  I  haf  hat  my  share — yes,  I  haf 
hat  my  share  !"  Nevertheless,  it  would  have  been  difficul' 
for  one  who  was  not  in  the  secret  to  detect  the  smallest  sign 
that  the  sufferer  endured  a  tithe  of  the  agony  he  actually 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  109 

underwent.  Ursula  was  deceived  ;  and  to  this  hour  she  is 
ignorant  how  much  her  uncle  endured.  But,  as  I  have  said, 
this  pain  ceased  altogether  about  nine  o'clock,  and  Andries 
even  slumbered  for  many  minutes  at  a  time.  Not  long 
before  the  light  returned,  however,  he  became  aroused,  and 
never  slumbered  again  until  he  fell  into  the  long,  last  sleep 
of  death.  His  niece  prayed  with  him  about  five ;  after 
which  he  seemed  to  consider  himself  as  ready  for  the  final 
march. 

It  might  have  been  owing  to  the  age  of  the  patient ;  but, 
in  this  instance,  death  announced  his  near  approach  by  a 
rapid  loss  of  the  senses.  At  first  came  a  difficulty  of  hear 
ing  ;  and  then  the  quick  decay  of  the  sense  of  sight.  The 
first  was  made  known  to  us  by  a  repetition  of  questions  that 
had  already  been  more  than  once  answered;  while  the 
painful  fact  that  sight,  if  not  absolutely  gone,  was  going, 
was  brought  home  to  us  by  the  circumstance  that,  while 
Dus  was  actually  hovering  over  him  like  a  guardian  angel, 
he  inquired  anxiously  where  she  was. 

**  I  am  here,  uncle  Chainbearer,"  answered  the  dear  girl, 
in  tremulous  tones — "  here,  before  you,  and  am  about  to  wet 
your  lips." 

"  I  want  t'e  gal — t'at  ist — I  wish  her  to  pe  near  when  t'e 
spirit  mounts  to  Heafen.  —  Haf  her  callet,  Frank  or  Mor 
taunt." 

"  Dear — dearest  uncle,  I  am  here,  now — here  before  you 
— closest  to  you  of  all — almost  in  your  arms,"  answered 
Dus,  speaking  loud  enough  to  make  herself  heard,  by  an 
effort  that  cost  her  a  great  deal.  "  Do  not  think  I  can  ever 
desert  you,  until  I  know  that  your  spirit  has  gone  to  the 
mercy-seat  of  God !" 

"  I  knowet  it,"  said  Chainbearer,  endeavouring  to  raise 
his  arms  to  feel  for  his  niece,  who  met  the  effort  by  receiv 
ing  his  feeble  and  clammy  hand  in  both  her  own.  —  "Re 
member  my  wishes  apout  Mortaunt,  gal  —  yet,  shoult  t'e 
family  agree,  marry  him  wit'  my  plessin' — yes,  my  pest 
plessin'. — Kiss  me,  Duss. — Wast  t'em  your  lips  ? — t'ey  fell 
colt ;  ant  you  are  nefer  colt  of  hant  or'heart. — Mortaunt — 
kiss  me,  too,  lat — t'at  wast  warmer,  ant  hat  more  feelin'  in 
it. — Frank,  gif  me  your  hant — I  owe  you  money — t'ere  ist 
a  stockin'  half  full  of  tollars. — Your  sister  wilt  pay  my  tebts. 
35 


410  THE    CHAIN  BEARER. 

Ant  General  Littlepage  owes  me  money — ptft  most  he  owesl 
me  goot  will. — I  pray  Got  to  pless  him — ant  to  pless  Matam 
Littlepage — ant  olt  Matam  Littlepage,  t'at  I  nefer  did  see — 
ant  t'e  major,  or  colonel,  ast  he  is  now  callet — ant  all  our 
rijiment — ant  your  rijiment,  too,  Frank,  which  wast  a  fery 
goot  rijiment. — Farewell,  Frank — Dus — sister — precious — 
Christ-Jesus,  receive  my " 

These  words  came  with  difficulty,  and  were  whispered, 
rather  than  uttered  aloud.  They  came  at  intervals,  too, 
especially  towards  the  last,  in  a  way  to  announce  the  near 
approach  of  the  state  of  which  they  were  the  more  imme 
diate  precursors.  The  last  syllable  I  have  recorded  was  no 
sooner  uttered,  than  the  breath  temporarily  ceased.  I  re 
moved  Dus  by  gentle  force,  placing  her  in  the  arms  of  hei 
brother,  and  turned  to  note  the  final  respiration.  That  final 
breath,  in  which  the  spirit  appears  to  be  exhaled,  was  calm, 
placid,  and  as  easy  as  comports  with  the  separation  of  soul 
and  body ;  leaving  the  hard,  aged,  wrinkled,  but  benevolent 
countenance  of  the  deceased,  with  an  expression  of  happy 
repose  on  it,  such  as  the  friends  of  the  dead  love  to  look 
upon.  Of  all  the  deaths  I  had  then  witnessed,  this  was  the 
most  tranquil,  and  the  best  calculated  to  renew  the  hopes 
of  the  Christian.  As  for  myself,  it  added  a  profound  re 
spect  for  the  character  and  moral  qualities  of  Ursula  Mai- 
bone,  to  the  love  and  admiration  I  bore  her  already,  the 
fruits  of  her  beauty,  wit,  heart,  and  other  attractions. 

The  two  expected  deaths  had  now  taken  place,  and  it  only 
remained  to  dispose  of  the  legal  questions  connected  with 
the  events  which  had  caused  them,  inter  the  bodies,  and 
return  to  the  Nest.  I  saw  that  one  of  the  cabins  was  pre 
pared  for  the  reception  of  Ursula  and  Lowiny,  the  latter  still 
clinging  to  us,  while  the  body  of  Chainbearer  was  laid  out 
in  a  coffin  that  had  been  made  by  the  same  hands,  and  at 
the  same  time,  as  that  of  Thousandacres.  About  noon,  the 
coroner  arrived,  not  'Squire  Newcome,  but  another,  for 
whom  he  had  himself  sent;  and  a  jury  was  immediately 
collected  from  among  the  members  of  the  posse.  The  pro 
ceedings  were  of  no  great  length.  I  told  my  story,  or  as 
much  of  it  as  was  necessary,  from  beginning  to  end,  and 
others  gave  their  testimony  as  to  the  proceedings  at  different 
periods  in  the  events.  The  finding  was,  in  the  case  of 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  411 

Chainbearer,  "  murder  by  the  hand  of  some  person  un 
known  ;"  and  in  that  of  Thousandacres,  "  accidental  death." 
The  first  was  right,  unquestionably  ;  as  to  the  last,  I  con 
ceive,  there  was  as  little  of  "  accident"  as  ever  occurred, 
when  a  man  was  shot  through  the  body  by  a  steady  hand, 
and  an  unerring  eye.  But  such  was  the  verdict,  and  I  had 
nothing  but  conjectures  for  my  opinion  as  to  the  agency  of 
the  Indian  in  killing  the  squatter. 

That  evening,  and  a  cool  autumnal  night  it  was,  we  bu 
ried  Thousandacres,  in  the  centre  of  the  field  I  have  men 
tioned.  Of  all  his  numerous  family,  Prudence  and  Lowiny 
alone  were  present.  The  service  was  short,  and  the  man 
of  violence  descended  to  mingle  with  the  clods  of  the  earth, 
without  a  common  prayer,  a  verse  from  Holy  Writ,  or  any 
religious  rite  whatever.  The  men  who  had  borne  the  body, 
ana  the  few  spectators  present,  filled  the  grave,  rounded  it 
handsomely,  and  covered  it  with  sods,  and  were  turning 
away  in  silence,  to  retrace  their  steps  to  the  dwellings,  when 
the  profound  stillness  which  had  reigned  throughout  the 
whole  of  the  brief  ceremony,  was  suddenly  broken  by  the 
clear,  full  voice  of  Prudence,  who  spoke  in  a  tone  and  man 
ner  that  arrested  every  step. 

"  Men  and  brethren,"  said  this  extraordinary  woman,  who 
had  so  many  of  the  vices  of  her  condition,  relieved  by  so 
many  of  the  virtues  of  her  sex  and  origin.  "  Men  and 
brethren,"  she  said,  "  for  I  cannot  call  ye  neighbours,  and 
will  not  call  you  foes,  I  thank  ye  for  this  act  of  decent 
regard  to  the  wants  of  both  the  departed  and  the  living,  and 
that  ye  have  thus  come  to  assist  in  burying  my  dead  out  of 
my  sight." 

Some  such  address,  even  a  portion  of  these  very  words, 
were  customary ;  but  as  no  one  had  expected  anything  of 
the  sort  at  that  moment,  they  startled  as  much  as  they  sur 
prised  us.  As  the  rest  of  the  party  recovered  from  its 
wonder,  however,  it  proceeded  towards  the  huts,  leaving  me 
alone  with  Prudence,  who  stood,  swinging  her  body  as 
usual,  by  the  side  of  the  grave. 

"  The  night  threatens  to  be  cool,"  I  said,  "  and  you  had 
better  return  with  me  to  the  dwellings." 

"  What 's  the  houses  to  me,  now !  Aaron  is  gone,  the  b'ys 
be  fled,  and  their  wives  and  children,  and  my  children,  be 


412  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

fled,  leaving  none  in  this  clearin'  but  Lowiny,  who  belongs 
more  to  your'n  in  feelin',  than  to  me  and  mine,  and  the  body 
that  lies  beneath  the  clods  !  There 's  property  in  the  housen, 
that  I  do  s'pose  even  the  law  would  give  us,  and  maybe 
some  one  may  want  it.  Give  me  that,  Major  Littlepage,  to 
help  to  clothe  and  feed  my  young,  and  I  '11  never  trouble 
this  place  ag'in.  They'll  not  call  Aaron  a  squatter  for 
takin'  up  that  small  piece  of  'arth ;  and  one  day,  perhaps, 
you  '11  not  grudge  to  me  as  much  more  by  its  side.  It 's 
little  more  squattin'  that  I  can  do,  and  the  next  pitch  I  make, 
will  be  the  last." 

"  There  is  no  wish  on  my  part,  good  woman,  to  injure 
you.  Your  effects  can  be  taken  away  from  this  place  when 
ever  you  please,  and  I  will  even  help  you  to  do  it,"  I  an 
swered,  "  in  such  a  way  as  to  put  it  in  the  power  of  your 
sons  to  receive  the  goods  without  risk  to  themselves.  I  re 
member  to  have  seen  a  batteau  of  some  size  in  the  stream 
below  the  mill ;  can  you  tell  me  whether  it  remains  there 
or  not  ?" 

"  Why  shouldn't  it  ?  The  b'ys  built  it  two  years  ago,  to 
transport  things  in,  and  it's  not  likely  to  go  off  of  itself." 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  use  that  boat  to  get  your  effects  off 
with  safety  to  yourself.  To-morrow,  everything  of  any  value 
that  can  be  found  about  this  place,  and  to  which  you  can 
have  any  right,  shall  be  put  in  that  batteau,  and  I  will  send 
the  boat,  when  loaded,  down  the  stream,  by  means  of  my 
own  black  and  the  Indian,  who  shall  abandon  it  a  mile  or 
two  below,  where  those  you  may  send  to  look  for  it,  can 
take  possession  and  carry  the  effects  to  any  place  you  may 
choose." 

The  woman  seemed  surprised,  and  even  affected  by  this 
proposal,  though  she  a  little  distrusted  my  motives. 

"  Can  I  depend  on  this,  Major  Littlepage  ?"  she  asked, 
doubtingly  .**  Tobit  and  his  brethren  would  be  desp'rate,  if 
any  scheme  to  take  'em  should  be  set  on  foot  under  sich  a 
disguise." 

"Tobit  and  his  brethren  have  nothing  to  fear  from 
treachery  of  mine.  Has  the  word  of  a  gentleman  no  value 
in  your  eyes  ?" 

"  I  know  that  gentlemen  gin'rally  do  as  they  promise ; 
and  so  I  've  often  told  Aaron,  as  a  reason  for  not  bein'  hard 


THE    eHAINBEARER.  413 

on  their  property,  but  he  never  would  hear  to  it.  Waal, 
Major  Littlepage,  I  '11  put  faith  in  you,  and  will  look  for  the 
batteau  at  the  place  you  Jve  mentioned.  God  bless  you  for 
this,  and  may  he  prosper  you  in  that  which  is  nearest  your 
heart !  We  shall  never  see  each  other  ag'in — farewell." 

You  surely  will  return  to  the  house,  and  pass  the  night 
comfortably  under  a  roof!" 

"  No ;  I  '11  quit  you  here.  The  housen  have  little  in  'em 
now  that  I  love,  and  I  shall  be  happier  in  the  woods." 

"But  the  night  is  cool,  and,  ere  it  be  morning  it  will  be 
come  even  chilling  and  cold." 

"  It 's  colder  in  that  grave,"  answered  the  woman,  point 
ing  mournfully  with  her  long,  skinny  finger  to  the  mound 
which  covered  the  remains  of  her  husband.  "  I  'm  used  to 
the  forest,  and  go  to  look  for  my  children.  The  mother 
that  looks  for  her  children  is  not  to  be  kept  back  by  winds 
and  frost.  Farewell  ag'in,  Major  Littlepage.  May  God 
remember  what  you  have  done,  and  will  do,  for  me  and 
mine !" 

"  But  you  forget  your  daughter.  What  is  to  become  of 
your  daughter?" 

"  Lowiny  has  taken  desp'rately  to  Dus  Malbone,  and 
wishes  to  stay  with  her  while  Dus  wishes  to  have  her  stay. 
If  they  get  tired  of  each  other,  my  da'ghter  can  easily  find 
us.  No  gal  of  mine  will  be  long  put  out  in  sich  a  s'arch." 
As  all  this  sounded  probable  and  well  enough,  I  had  no 
further  objections  to  urge.  Prudence  waved  her  hand  in 
adieu,  and  away  she  went  across  the  dreary-looking  fields 
with  the  strides  of  a  man,  burying  her  tall,  gaunt  figure  in 
the  shadow  of  the  wood,  with  as  little  hesitation  as  another 
would  have  entered  the  well-known  avenues  of  some  town. 
I  never  saw  her  afterwards ;  though  one  or  two  messages 
from  her  did  reach  me  through  Lowiny. 

As  I  was  returning  from  the  grave,  Jaap  and  the  Track 
less  came  in  from  their  scout.  The  report  they  made  was 
perfectly  satisfactory.  By  the  trail,  which  they  followed 
for  miles,  the  squatters  had  actually  absconded,  pushing  for 
some  distant  point,  and  nothing  more  was  to  be  feared  from 
them  in  that  part  of  the  country.  I  now  gave  my  orders 
as  respected  the  goods  and  chattels  of  the  family,  which 
were  neither  very  numerous  nor  very  valuable ;  and  it  may 
35* 


414  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

as  well  be  said  here  as  later,  that  everything  was  done  next 
day,  strictly  according  to  promise.  The  first  of  the  mes 
sages  that  I  received  from  Prudence  came  within  a  month, 
acknowledging  the  receipt  of  her  effects,  even  to  the  gear  of 
the  mill,  and  expressing  her  deep  gratitude  for  the  favour. 
I  have  reason  to  think,  too,  that  nearly  half  the  lumber 
fell  into  the  hands  of  these  squatters,  quite  that  portion  of 
it  being  in  the  stream  at  the  time  we  removed  from  the  spot, 
and  floating  off  with  the  rains  that  soon  set  in.  What  was 
found  at  a  later  day  was  sold,  and  the  proceeds  were  appro 
priated  to  meet  the  expenses  of,  and  to  make  presents  to  the 
posse,  as  an  encouragement  to  such  persons  to  see  the 
majesty  of  the  laws  maintained. 

Early  next  morning  we  made  our  preparations  to  quit  the 
deserted  mill.  Ten  of  the  posse  arranged  themselves  into 
a  party  to  see  the  body  of  Chain  bearer  transported  to  the 
Nest.  This  was  done  by  making  a  rude  bier,  that  was  car 
ried  by  two  horses,  one  preceding  the  other,  and  having  the 
corpse  suspended  between  them.  I  remained  with  the  body ; 
but  Dus,  attended  by  Lowiny,  and  protected  by  her  brother, 
preceded  us,  halting  at  Chainbearer's  huts  for  our  arrival. 
At  this  point  we  passed  the  first  night  of  our  journey,  Dus 
and  Frank  again  preceding  us,  always  on  foot,  to  the  Nest. 
At  this  place,  the  final  halt  of  poor  Andries,  the  brother  and 
sister  arrived  at  an  hour  before  dinner,  while  we  did  not 
get  in  with  the  body  until  the  sun  was  just  setting. 

As  our  little  procession  drew  near  the  house,  I  saw  a 
number  of  wagons  and  horses  in  the  orchard  that  spread 
around  it,  which,  at  first,  I  mistook  for  a  collection  of  the 
tenants,  met  to  do  honour  to  the  manes  of  Chainbearer.  A 
second  look,  however,  let  me  into  the  true  secret  of  the  case. 
As  we  drew  slowly  near,  the  whole  procession  on  foot,  I 
discovered  the  persons  of  my  own  dear  parents,  that  of  colo 
nel  Pollock,  those  of  Kate,  Pris.  Bayard,  Tom  Bayard,  and 
even  of  my  sister  Kettletas,  in  the  group.  Last  of  all,  I 
saw,  pressing  forward  to  meet  me,  yet  a  little  repelled  by 
the  appearance  of  the  coffin,  my  dear  and  venerable  old 
grandmother,  herself! 

Here,  then,  were  assembled  nearly  all  of  the  house  01 
Littlepage,  with  two  or  three  near  friends,  who  did  not  be 
long  to  it !  Frank  Malbone  was  among  them,  and  doubtless 


THE     CHAINBEA11ER.  415 

had  told  his  story,  so  that  our  visitors  could  not  be  surprised 
at  our  appearance.  On  the  other  hand,  I  was  at  no  loss  to 
understand  how  all  this  had  been  brought  about.  Frank's 
express  had  found  the  party  at  Fishkill,  had  communicated 
his  intelligence,  set  everybody  in  motion  on  the  wings  of 
anxiety  and  love,  and  here  they  were.  The  journey  had 
not  been  particularly  rapid  either,  plenty  of  time  having 
elapsed  between  the  time  when  my  seizure  by  the  squatters 
was  first  made  known  to  my  friends,  and  the  present  mo 
ment,  to  have  got  a  message  to  Lilacsbush,  and  to  have  re 
ceived  its  answer. 

Kate  afterwards  told  me  we  made  an  imposing  and  so 
lemn  appearance,  as  we  came  up  to  the  gate  of  Ravensnest, 
bearing  the  body  of  Chainbearer.  In  advance  marched  Sus- 
quesus  and  Jaap,  each  armed,  and  the  latter  carrying  an 
axe,  acting,  as  occasion  required,  in  the  character  of  a 
pioneer.  The  bearers  and  attendants  came  next,  two  and 
two,  armed  as  part  of  the  posse,  and  carrying  packs ;  next 
succeeded  the  horses  with  the  bier,  each  led  by  a  keeper ;  I 
was  the  principal  mourner,  though  armed  like  the  rest,  while 
Chainbearer's  poor  slaves,  now  the  property  of  Dus,  brought 
up  the  rear,  carrying  his  compass,  chains,  and  the  other 
emblems  of  his  calling. 

We  made  no  halt,  but  passing  the  crowd  collected  on  the 
lawn,  we  went  through  the  gate-way,  and  only  came  to  a 
stand  when  we  had  reached  the  centre  of  the  court.  As  all 
the  arrangements  had  been  previously  made,  the  next  step 
was  to  inter  the  body.  I  knew  that  general  Littlepage  had 
often  officiated  on  such  occasions,  and  a  request  to  that  ef 
fect  was  made  to  him,  through  Tom  Bayard.  As  for  myself, 
I  said  not  a  word  to  any  of  my  own  family,  begging  them 
to  excuse  me  until  I  had  seen  the  last  offices  performed  to 
the  remains  of  my  friend.  In  half  an  hour  all  was  ready,  and 
again  the  solemn  procession  was  resumed.  As  before,  Sus- 
quesus  and  Jaap  led  the  way,  the  latter  now  carrying  a 
shovel,  and  acting  in  the  capacity  of  a  sexton.  The  Indian 
bore  a  flaming  torch  of  pine,  the  darkness  having  so  far  ad 
vanced  as  to  render  artificial  light  necessary.  Others  of 
the  party  had  these  natural  flambeaux,  also,  which  added 
greatly  to  the  solemnity  and  impressiveness  of  the  scene. 
General  Littlepage  preceded  the  corpse,  carrying  a  prayer- 


416  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

book.  Then  followed  the  bearers,  with  the  coffin,  the  horses 
being  now  dismissed.  Dus,  veiled  in  black  from  head  to 
foot,  and,  leaning  on  Frank,  appeared  as  chief  mourner. 
Though  this  was  not  strictly  in  conformity  with  real  New 
York  habits,  yet  no  one  thought  the  occasion  one  on  which 
to  manifest  the  customary  reserve  of  the  sex.  Everybody 
in  or  near  the  Nest,  females  as  well  as  males,  appeared  to- 
do  honour  to  the  memory  of  Chainbearer,  and  Dua  came 
forth  as  the  chief  mourner.  Priscilla  Bayard,  leaning  on 
the  arm  of  her  brother  Tom,  edged  herself  in  next  to  her 
friend,  though  they  had  not  as  yet  exchanged  a  syllable  to 
gether  ;  and,  after  all  was  over,  Pris.  told  me  it  was  the  first 
funeral  she  had  ever  attended,  or  the  first  time  she  had  ever 
been  at  a  grave.  The  same  was  true  of  my  grandmother, 
my  mother,  and  both  my  sisters.  I  mention  this  lest  some 
antiquarian,  a  thousand  years  hence,  might  light  on  this 
manuscript,  and  mistake  our  customs.  Of  late  years,  the 
New  Englanders  are  introducing  an  innovation  on  the  old 
usage  of  the  colony  ;  but,  among  the  upper  real  New  York 
families,  women  do  not  even  now  attend  funerals.  In  this 
respect,  I  apprehend,  we  follow  the  habits  of  England,  where 
females  of  the  humbler  classes,  as  I  have  heard,  do,  while 
their  superiors  do  not  appear  on  such  occasions.  The  rea 
son  of  the  difference  between  the  two  is  very  easily  appre 
ciated,  though  I  limit  my  statements  to  what  I  conceive  to 
be  the  facts,  without  affecting  to  philosophize  on  them. 

But,  all  our  ladies  attended  the  funeral  of  Chainbearer.  I 
came  next  to  Tom  and  Priscilla,  Kate  pressing  up  to  my 
side,  and  placing  her  arm  in  mine,  without  speaking.  As 
she  did  this,  however,  the  dear  girl  laid  her  little  hand  on 
mine,  and  gave  the  latter  a  warm  pressure,  as  much  as  to 
say  how  greatly  she  was  rejoiced  at  finding  me  safe,  and  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  Philistines.  The  rest  of  the  party  fell  in 
behind,  and,  as  soon  as  the  Indian  saw  that  everybody  was 
placed,  he  moved  slowly  forward,  holding  his  flaming  torch 
so  high  as  to  light  the  footsteps  of  those  near  him. 

Directions  had  been  sent  to  the  'Nest  to  dig  a  grave  for 
Andries,  in  the  orchard,  and  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
verge  of  the  rocks.  As  I  afterwards  ascertained,  it  was  at 
the  very  spot  where  one  of  the  most  remarkable  events  in 
he  life  of  the  general  had  occurred  an  event  in  which  both 


THE    CHAIN  B  E  A  RER  .  417 

Susquesus  and  Jaap  had  been  conspicuous  actors.  Thither, 
then,  we  proceeded,  in  funereal  order,  and  with  funereal 
tread,  the  torches  throwing  their  wild  and  appropriate  light 
over  the  nearer  accessories  of  the  scene.  Never  did  the 
service  sound  more  solemnly  to  me,  there  being  a  pathos 
and  richness  in  my  father's  voice  that  were  admirably  adapt- 
ed  to  the  occasion.  Then  he  felt  what  he  was  reading, 
which  does  not  always  happen  even  when  clergymen  offi 
ciate  ;  for  not  only  was  general  Littlepage  a  close  friend  of 
the  deceased,  but  he  was  a  devout  Christian.  I  felt  a  throb 
at  the  heart,  as  I  heard  the  fall  of  the  first  clods  on  the  coffin 
of  Chainbearer ;  but  reflection  brought  its  calm,  and  from 
that  moment  Dus  became,  as  it  might  be,  doubly  dear  to  me. 
It  appeared  to  me  as  if  all  her  uncle's  love  and  care  had 
been  transferred  to  myself,  and  that,  henceforth,  I  was  to  be 
his  representative  with  his  much-beloved  niece.  I  did  not 
hear  a  sob  from  Ursula  during  the  whole  ceremony.  I  knew 
that  she  wept,  and  wept  bitterly :  but  her  self-command  was 
so  great  as  to  prevent  any  undue  obtrusion  of  her  griefs  on 
others.  We  all  remained  at  the  grave  until  Jaap  had  round 
ed  it  with  his  utmost  skill,  and  had  replaced  the  last  sod. 
Then  the  procession  formed  anew,  and  we  accompanied 
Frank  and  Dus  to  the  door  of  the  house,  when  she  entered 
and  left  us  without.  Priscilla  Bayard,  however,  glided  in 
after  her  friend,  and  I  saw  them  locked  in  each  other's  arms, 
through  the  window  of  the  parlour,  by  the  light  of  the  fire 
within.  At  the  next  moment,  they  retired  together  to  the 
little  room  that  Dus  had  appropriated  to  her  own  particular 
use. 

Now  it  was  that  I  embraced  and  was  embraced  by  my 
friends.  My  mother  held  me  long  in  her  arms,  called  me 
her  "  dear,  dear  boy,"  and  left  tears  on  my  face.  Kate  did 
pretty  much  the  same,  though  she  said  nothing.  As  for 
Anneke,  my  dear  sister  Kettletas,  her  embrace  was  like 
herself,  gentle,  sincere,  and  warm-hearted.  Nor  must  my 
dear  old  grandmother  be  forgotten;  for  though  she  came 
last  of  the  females,  she  held  me  longest  in  her  arms,  and, 
after  "  thanking  God"  devoutly  for  my  late  escape,  she  pro 
tested  that  "I  grew  every  hour  more  and  more  like  the 
Littlepages."  Aunt  Mary  kissed  me  with  her  customary 
affection. 


418  THE     CHAIN  BEAU  Ell. 

A  portion  of  these  embraces,  however,  occurred  after  we 
had  entered  the  parlour,  which  Frank,  imitating  Dus,  had 
delicately,  as  well  as  considerately,  left  to  ourselves.  Colonel 
Pollock,  nevertheless,  gave  me  his  salutations  and  congratu 
lations  before  we  left  the  court ;  and  they  were  as  cordial 
and  hearty  as  if  he  had  been  a  second  father. 

"  How  atmiraply  the  general  reats,  Mortaunt,"  our  old 
friend  added,  becoming  very  Dutch  as  he  got  to  be  excited. 
"  I  haf  always  sayet  t'at  Corny  Littlepage  woult  make  as 
goot  a  tominie  as  any  rector  t'ey  ever  hat  in  olt  Trinity. 
Put  he  mate  as  goot  a  soltier,  too.  Corny  ist  an  extraordi 
nary  man,  Mortaunt,  ant  one  tay  he  wilt  pe  gofernor." 

This  was  a  favourite  theory  of  colonel  Van  Valkenburgh's. 
For  himself,  he  was  totally  without  ambition,  whereas  he 
thought  nothing  good  enough  for  his  friend,  Corny  Little- 
page.  Scarce  a  year  passed  that  he  did  not  allude  to  the 
propriety  of  elevating  *  t'e  general'  to  some  high  office  or 
other  ;  nor  am  I  certain  that  his  allusions  of  this  nature  may 
not  have  had  their  effect ;  since  my  father  was  elected  to 
Congress  as  soon  as  the  new  constitution  was  formed,  and 
continued  to  sit  as  long  as  his  health  and  comfort  would 
permit. 

Supper  was  prepared  for  both  parties  of  travellers,  of 
course,  and  in  due  time  we  all  took  our  seats  at  table.  I 
say  all ;  but  that  was  not  literally  exact,  inasmuch  as 
neither  Frank,  Dus,  nor  Priscilla  Bayard,  appeared  among 
us  again  that  evening.  I  presume  each  had  something  to  eat, 
though  all  took  the  meal  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  family. 

After  supper  I  was  requested  to  relate,  seriatim,  all  the 
recent  events  connected  with  my  visit  to  the  'Nest,  my  arrest 
and  liberation.  This  I  did,  of  course,  seated  at  my  grand 
mother's  side,  the  old  lady  holding  one  of  my  hands  the 
whole  time  I  was  speaking.  The  most  profound  attention 
was  lent  by  all  the  party ;  and  a  thoughtful  silence  suc 
ceeded  my  narration,  which  ended  only  with  the  history  of 
our  departure  from  the  mills. 

"  Ay,"  exclaimed  colonel  Follock,  who  was  first  to  speak 
after  I  had  terminated  my  own  account.  "  So  much  for 
Yankee  religion!  I'll  warrant  you  now,  Corny,  t'at  t|e 
fellow,  T'ousantacres,  coult  preach  ant  pray  just  like  all  t'e 
••est  of  our  Pilgrim  Fat'ers." 


THE     CHAINBEARER.  419 

"There  are  rogues  of  New  York  birth  and  extraction,  Colo- 
ael  Pollock,  as  well  as  of  New  England,"  answered  my  father, 
drily ;  "  and  the  practice  of  squatting  is  incidental  to  the 
condition  of  the  country  ;  as  men  are  certain  to  make  free 
with  the  property  that  is  least  protected  and  watched.  Squat 
ters  are  made  by  circumstances,  and  not  by  any  peculiar 
disposition  of  a  particular  portion  of  the  population  to  appro 
priate  the  land  of  others  to  their  own  uses.  It  would  be  the 
same  with  our  hogs  and  our  horses,  were  they  equally  ex 
posed  to  the  depredations  of  lawless  men,  let  the  latter  come 
from  Connecticut  or  Long  Island." 

"  Let  me  catch  one  of  t'ese  gentry  among  my  horses !" 
answered  the  colonel,  with  a  menacing  shake  of  his  head, 
for,  Dutchman-like,  he  had  a  wonderful  love  for  the  species 
— "  I  woult  crop  him  wit'  my  own  hants,  wit'out  chudge  or 
ehury." 

"  That  might  lead  to  evils  almost  as  great  as  those  pro 
duced  by  squatting,  Dirck,"  returned  my  father. 

"  By  the  way,  sir,"  I  put  in,  knowing  that  Colonel  Pollock 
sometimes  uttered  extravagances  on  such  subjects,  though  as 
honest  and  well-meaning  a  man  as  ever  breathed — "  I  have 
forgotten  to  mention  a  circumstance  that  may  have  some 
interest,  as  'squire  Newcome  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  yours." 
I  then  recounted  all  the  facts  connected  with  the  first  visit 
of  Mr.  Jason  Newcome  to  the  clearing  of  Thousandacres, 
and  the  substance  of  the  conversation  I  had  overheard  be 
tween  the  squatter  and  that  upright  magistrate.  General 
Littlepage  listened  with  profound  attention  ;  and  as  for  colonel 
Pollock,  he  raised  his  eye-brows,  grunted,  laughed  as  well 
as  a  man  could  with  his  lips  compressing  a  pipe,  and  uttered 
in  the  best  way  he  was  able,  under  the  circumstances,  and 
with  sufficient  sententiousness,  the  single  word  '  Danpury  !'" 

"  No — no — Dirck,"  answered  my  father,  "  we  must  not 
put  all  these  crimes  and  vices  on  our  neighbours,  for  many 
of  them  grow,  from  the  seedling  to  the  tree  bearing  fruit,  in 
our  own  soil.  I  know  this  man,  Jason  Newcome,  reason-: 
ably  well ;  and,  while  I  have  confided  in  him  more  than  I 
ought,  perhaps,  I  have  never  supposed  he  was  a  person  in 
the  least  influenced  by  our  conventional  notions  of  honour 
and  integrity.  What  is  called  "  Law  Honest,"  I  have  be» 
lieved  him  to  be ;  but  it  would  seem,  in  that  I  haye  been 


420  THE     CHAINBEAREK. 

mistaken.  Still,  I  am  not  prepared  to  admit  that  the  place 
of  his  birth,  or  his  education,  is  the  sole  cause  of  his  back* 
slidings." 

"  Own  t'e  trut'.  Corny,  like  a  man  ast  you  pe,  ant  confess 
it  ist  all  our  pilgrim  fat'ers'  ant  Tanpury  itees.  What  use 
ist  t'ere  in  misleetin'  your  own  son,  who  wilt  come,  sooner 
or  later,  to  see  t'e  whole  trut'  ?" 

"  I  should  be  sorry,  Dirck,  to  teach  my  son  any  narrow 
prejudices.  The  last  war  has  thrown  me  much  among 
officers  from  New  England,  and  the  intercourse  has  taught 
me  to  esteem  that  portion  of  our  fellow-citizens  more  than 
was  our  custom  previously  to  the  Revolution." 

"  Tush  for  *  intercourse,'  ant  '  esteem,'  ant  « teachin', 
Corny  !  T'e  whole  t'ing  of  squattin'  hast  crosset  t'e  Byram 
rifer,  ant  unless  we  look  to  it,  t'e  Yankees  wilt  get  all  our 
lants  away  from  us  !" 

41  Jason  Newcome,  when  I  knew  him  best,  and  I  may  say 
first,"  continued  my  father,  without  appearing  to  pay  much 
attention  to  the  observations  of  his  friend,  the  colonel,  "  was 
an  exceedingly  unfledged,  narrow-minded  provincial,  with  a 
most  overweening  notion,  certainly,  of  the  high  excellen 
cies  of  the  particular  state  of  society  from  which  he  had  not 
long  before  emerged.  He  had  just  as  great  a  contempt  for 
New  York,  and  New  York  wit,  and  New  York  usages,  and 
especially  for  New  York  religion  and  morals,  as  Dirck  here 
seems  to  have  for  all  those  excellencies  as  they  are  exhibited 
in  New  England.  In  a  word,  the  Yankee  despised  the 
Dutchman,  and  the  Dutchman  abominated  the  Yankee.  In 
all  this,  there  is  nothing  new,  and  I  fancy  the  supercilious 
feeling  of  the  New  England-man  can  very  easily  be  traced 
to  his  origin  in  the  mother  country.  But,  differences  do 
exist,  I  admit,  and  I  consider  the  feeling  with  which  every 
New  Englander  comes  among  us,  to  be,  by  habit,  adverse 
to  our  state  of  society  in  many  particulars — some  good  and 
some  bad — and  this  merely  because  he  is  not  accustomed  to 
them.  Among  other  things,  as  a  whole,  the  population  of 
these  states  do  not  relish  the  tenures  by  which  our  large 
estates  are  held.  There  are  plenty  of  men,  from  that 
quarter  of  the  country,  who  are  too  well  taught,  and  whose 
honesty  is  too  much  of  proof,  not  to  wish  to  oppose  any- 
hing  that  is  wrong  in  connection  with  this  subject ;  still,  the 


THE    CHAINBEAREK,  421 

prejudices  of  nearly  all  who  come  from  the  east  are  opposed 
to  the  relation  of  landlord  and  tenant,  and  this  because  they 
do  not  wish  to  see  large  landlords  among  them,  not  being 
large  landlords  themselves.  I  never  found  any  gentleman, 
or  man  of  education  from  New  England,  who  saw  any  harm 
in  a  man's  leasing  a  single  farm  to  a  single  tenant,  or  half 
a-dozen  farms  to  half-a-dozen  tenants ;  proof  that  it  is  no 
the  tenure  itself  with  which  they  quarrel,  but  with  a  class 
of  men  who  are,  or  seem  to  be,  their  superiors." 

"  I  have  heard  the  argument  used  against  the  leasehold 
system,  that  it  retards  the  growth  and  lessens  the  wealth  of 
any  district  in  which  it  may  prevail." 

"  That  it  does  not  retard  the  growth,  is  proved  by  the 
fact  that  farms  can  be  leased  always,  when  it  often  requires 
years  to  sell  them.  This  estate  is  half  filled  now,  and  will 
be  entirely  occupied,  long  ere  Mooseridge  will  be  a  third 
sold.  That  the  latter  may  be  the  richest  and  the  best  tilled 
district,  in  the  end,  is  quite  probable;  and  this  for  the 
simple  reasons  that  richer  men  buy  than  rent,  to  begin  with, 
and  the  owner  usually  takes  better  care  of  his  farm  than 
the  mere  tenant.  Some  of  the  richest,  best  cultivated,  and 
most  civilized  regions  on  earth,  however,  are  those  in  which 
the  tenures  of  the  actual  occupants  are,  and  ever  have  been, 
merely  leasehold.  It  is  easy  to  talk,  and  to  feel,  in  these 
matters,  but  not  quite  so  easy  to  come  to  just  conclusions  as 
some  imagine.  There  are  portions  of  England,  for  instance 
—  Norfolk  in  particular  —  where  the  improvements  are 
almost  entirely  owing  to  the  resources  and  enterprise  of  the 
large  proprietors.  As  a  question  of  political  economy, 
Mordaunt,  depend  on  it,  this  is  one  that  has  two  sides  to  it ; 
as  a  question  of  mere  stomach,  each  man  will  be  apt  to 
view  it  as  his  gorge  is  up  or  down." 

Shortly  after  this  was  said,  the  ladies  complained  of  fa 
tigue,  a  feeling  in  which  we  all  participated ;  and  the  party 
broke  up  for  the  night.     It  seems  the  General  had  sent  back 
word  by  the  express,  of  the   accommodations   he   should 
require ;  which  enabled  the  good  people  of  the  Nest  to  make 
such    arrangements    as    rendered    everybody   reasonably 
comfortable. 
36 


THE    CHAINBEARER 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

w  Ltd.— -The  victory  is  yours,  sir." 

**  King* — It  is  a  glorious  one,  and  well  sets  off 

Our  scene  of  mercy ;  to  the  dead  we  tender 
Our  sorrow ;  to  the  living,  ample  wishes 
Of  future  happiness," 

BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHER, 

FATIGUE  kept  me  in  bed  next  morning  until  it  was  late. 
On  quitting  the  house  I  passed  through  the  gateway,  then 
always  left  open— defence  being  no  longer  thought  of — and 
walked  musingly  towards  the  grave  of  Chainbearer.  Pre 
viously  to  doing  this,  I  went  as  far  as  each  corner  of  the 
building,  however,  to  cast  an  eye  over  the  fields.  On  one 
side  of  the  house  I  saw  my  father  and  mother,  arm  in  arm, 
gazing  around  them ;  while  on  the  other,  Aunt  Mary  stood 
by  herself,  looking  wistfully  in  the  direction  of  a  wooded 
ravine,  which  had  been  the  scene  of  some  important  event 
in  the  early  history  of  the  country.  When  she  turned  to 
re  enter  the  building,  I  found  her  face  bathed  in  tears.  This 
respectable  woman,  who  was  now  well  turned  of  forty,  had 
lost  her  betrothed  in  battle,  on  that  very  spot,  a  quarter  of  a 
century  before,  and  was  now  gazing  on  the  sad  scene  for 
the  first  time  since  the  occurrence  of  the  event. 

Something  almost  as  interesting,  though  not  of  so  sad  a 
nature,  also  drew  my  parents  to  the  other  side  of  the  house. 
When  I  joined  them,  an  expression  of  grateful  happiness,  a 
little  saddened  perhaps  by  incidental  recollections,  was  on 
the  countenance  of  each.  My  dear  mother  kissed  me 
affectionately  as  I  drew  near,  and  the  general  cordially 
gave  me  his  hand  while  wishing  me  good-morning. 

"  We  were  talking  of  you,"  observed  the  last,  "  at  the 
very  moment  you  appeared.  Ravensnest  is  now  becoming 
a  valuable  property ;  and  its  income,  added  to  the  products 
of  this  large,  and  very  excellent  farm  that  you  have  in  your 
own  hands,  should  keep  a  country-house,  not  only  in  abund 
ance,  but  with  something  more.  You  will  naturally  think  of 


THE    CHAIN  BEARER.  423 

marrying  ere  long,  and  your  mother  and  I  were  just  saying 
that  you  ought  to  build  a  good,  substantial  stone  dwelling 
on  this  very  spot,  and  settle  down  on  your  own  property. 
Nothing  contributes  so  much  to  the  civilization  of  a  country 
as  to  dot  it  with  a  gentry,  and  you  will  both  give  and  re 
ceive  advantages  by  adopting  such  a  course.  It  is  impossi 
ble  for  those  who  have  never  been  witnesses  of  the  result, 
to  appreciate  the  effect  produced  by  one  gentleman's  family 
in  a  neighbourhood,  in  the  way  of  manners,  tastes,  general 
intelligence,  and  civilization  at  large." 

"  I  am  very  willing  to  do  my  duty,  sir,  in  this,  as  in 
other  particulars  ;  but  a  good  stone  country-house,  such  as 
a  landlord  ought  to  build  on  his  property,  will  cost  money, 
and  I  have  no  sum  in  hand  to  use  for  such  a  purpose." 

"  The  house  will  cost  far  less  than  you  suppose.  Mate 
rials  are  cheap,  and  so  is  labour  just  now.  Your  mother 
and  myself  will  manage  to  let  you  have  a  few  extra  thou 
sands,  for  our  town  property  is  beginning  to  tell  again,  and 
fear  nothing  on  that  score.  Make  your  selection  of  a  spot, 
and  lay  the  foundation  of  the  house  this  autumn ;  order  the 
lumber  sawed,  the  lime  burned,  and  other  preparations 
made — and  arrange  matters  so  that  you  can  eat  your  Christ 
mas  dinner,  in  the  year  1785,  in  the  new  residence  of  Ra- 
vensnest.  By  that  time  you  will  be  ready  to  get  married, 
and  we  may  all  come  up  to  the  house-warming." 

"  Has  anything  occurred  in  particular,  sir,  to  induce  you 
to  imagine  I  am  in  any  haste  to  marry  ?  You  seem  to  cou 
ple  matrimony  and  the  new  house  together,  in  a  way  to 
make  me  think  there  has." 

I  caught  the  general  there,  and,  while  my  mother  turned 
her  head  aside  and  smiled,  I  saw  that  my  father  coloured  a 
little,  though  he  made  out  to  laugh.  After  a  moment  of 
embarrassment,  however,  he  answered  with  spirit  —  my 
good,  old  grandmother  coming  up  and  linking  her  arm  at 
his  vacant  side  as  he  did  so. 

"  Why,  Mord,  my  boy,  you  can  have  very  little  of  the 
sensibility  of  the  Littlepages  in  you,"  he  said,  "  if  you  can 
be  a  daily  spectator  of  such  female  loveliness  as  is  now 
near  you,  and  not  lose  your  heart." 

Grandmother  fidgeted,  and  so  did  my  mother ;  for  I  could 
see  that  both  thought  the  general  had  made  too  bold  a  demon* 


424  THE    CHA1NBEARER. 

stration.  With  the  tact  of  their  sex,  they  would  have  been 
more  on  their  guard.  I  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  de 
termined  to  be  frank ;  the  present  being  as  good  a  time  as 
any  other,  to  reveal  my  secret* 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  be  insincere  with  you,  my  dear  sir," 
I  answered,  "  for  I  know  how  much  better  it  is  to  be  open 
on  matters  that  are  of  a  common  interest  in  a  family,  than 
to  affect  mysteriousness.  I  am  a  true  Littlepage  on  the 
score  of  sensibility  to  the  charms  of  the  sex,  and  have  not 
lived  in  daily  familiar  intercourse  with  female  loveliness, 
without  experiencing  so  much  of  its  influence  as  to  be  a 
warm  advocate  for  matrimony.  It  is  my  wish  to  marry, 
and  that,  too,  before  this  new  abode  of  Ravensnest  can  be 
completed." 

The  common  exclamation  of  delight  that  followed  this 
declaration,  sounded  in  my  ears  like  a  knell,  for  I  knew  it 
must  be  succeeded  by  a  disappointment  exactly  proportioned 
to  the  present  hopes.  But  I  had  gone  too  far  to  retreat,  and 
felt  bound  to  explain  myself. 

"I  'm  afraid,  my  dear  parents,  and  my  beloved  grand 
mother,"  I  continued,  as  soon  as  I  could  speak,  conscious 
of  the  necessity  of  being  as  prompt  as  possible,  "  that  you 
have  misunderstood  me." 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear  boy — not  at  all,"  interrupted  my 
father.  "  You  admire  Priscilla  Bayard,  but  have  not  yet  so 
far  presumed  on  your  reception  as  to  offer.  But  what  of 
that  ?  Your  modesty  is  in  your  favour ;  though  I  will  ac 
knowledge  that,  in  my  judgment,  a  gentleman  is  bound  to 
let  his  mistress  know,  as  soon  as  his  own  mind  is  made  up, 
that  he  is  a  suitor  for  her  hand,  and  that  it  is  ungenerous 
and  unmanly  to  wait  until  certain  of  success.  Remember 
that,  Mordaunt,  my  boy ;  modesty  may  be  carried  to  a  fault 
in  a  matter  of  this  sort." 

"  You  still  misunderstand  me,  sir.  I  have  nothing  to  re 
proach  myself  with  on  the  score  of  manliness,  though  I  may 
have  gone  too  far  in  another  way  without  consulting  my 
friends.  Beyond  sincere  good-will  and  friendship,  Priscilla 
Bayard  is  nothing  to  me,  and  I  am  nothing  to  Priscilla 
Bayard." 

"  Mordaunt !"  exclaimed  a  voice,  that  I  never  heard  with 
out  its  exciting  filial  tenderness. 


THE    CHAINBEARER. 

"  I  have  said  but  truth,  dearest  mother,  and  truth  that 
ought  to  have  been  sooner  said.  Miss  Bayard  would  refuse 
me  to-morrow,  were  I  to  offer." 

"  You  don't  know  that,  Mordaunt — You  can't  know  it 
until  you  try,"  interrupted  my  grandmother,  somewhat 
eagerly.  "  The  minds  of  young  women  are  not  to  be  judged 
by  the  same  rules  as  those  of  young  men.  Such  an  offer 
will  not  come  every  day,  I  can  tell  her;  and  she's  much 
too  discreet  and  right-judging  to  do  anything  so  silly.  To 
be  sure,  I  have  no  authority  to  say  how  Priscilla  feels  to 
wards  you ;  but,  if  her  heart  is  her  own,  and  Mordy  Little- 
page  be  riot  the  youth  that  has  stolen  it,  I  am  no  judge  of 
my  own  sex." 

"  But,  you  forget,  dearest  grandmother,  that  were  youi 
flattering  opinions  in  my  behalf  all  true — as  I  have  good 
reason  to  believe  they  are  not — but  were  they  true,  I  could 
only  regret  it  should  be  so ;  for  I  love  another." 

This  time  the  sensation  was  so  profound  as  to  produce  a 
common  silence.  Just  at  that  moment  an  interruption  oc 
curred,  of  a  nature  both  so  sweet  and  singular,  as  greatly 
to  relieve  me  at  least,  and  to  preclude  the  necessity  of  my 
giving  any  immediate  account  of  my  meaning.  I  will  ex 
plain  how  it  occurred. 

The  reader  may  remember  that  there  were,  originally, 
loops  in  the  exterior  walls  of  the  house  at  Ravensnest,  placed 
there  for  the  purposes  of  defence,  and  which  were  used  as 
small  windows  in  these  peaceable  times.  We  were  standing 
beneath  one  of  those  loops,  not  near  enough,  however,  to  be 
seen  or  heard  by  one  at  the  loop,  unless  we  raised  our  voices 
above  the  tone  in  which  we  were  actually  conversing1.  Out 
of  this  loop,  at  that  precise  instant,  issued  the  low,  sweet 
strains  of  one  of  Dus'  exquisite  Indian  hymns,  I  might  almost 
call  them,  set,  as  was  usual  with  her,  to  a  plaintive  Scotch 
melody.  On  looking  towards  the  grave  of  Chainbearer,  I 
saw  Susquesus  standing  over  it,  and  I  at  once  understood 
the  impulse  which  led  Ursula  to  sing  this  song.  The  words 
had  been  explained  to  me,  and  I  knew  that  they  alluded  to  a 
warrior's  grave. 

The  raised  finger,  the  delighted  expression  of  the  eye,  the 
attitude  of  intense  listening  which  my  beloved  mother  assumed, 
each  and  all  denoted  the  pleasure  and  emotion  she  expe- 
36* 


426  THE    CHAIN  BEARER. 

rienced.  When,  however,  the  singer  suddenly  changed  the 
language  to  English,  after  the  last  guttural  words  of  the 
Onondago  had  died  on  our  ears,  and  commenced  to  the  same 
strain  a  solemn  English  hymn,  that  was  short  in  itself,  but 
full  of  piety  and  hope,  the  tears  started  out  of  my  mother's 
and  grandmother's  eyes,  and  even  General  Lrttlepage  sought 
an  occasion  to  blow  his  nose  in  a  very  suspicious  manner. 
Presently,  the  sounds  died  away,  and  that  exquisite  melody 
ceased. 

"  In  the  name  of  wonder,  Mordaunt,  who  can  this  night 
ingale  be  ?"  demanded  my  father,  for  neither  of  the  ladies 
could  speak. 

"  That  is  the  person,  sir,  who  has  my  plighted  faith — the 
woman  I  must  marry,  or  remain  single." 

"  This,  then,  must  be  the  Dus  Malbone,  or  Ursula  Mai- 
bone,  of  whom  I  have  heard  so  much  from  Priscilla  Bayard, 
within  the  last  day  or  two,"  said  my  mother,  in  the  tone  and 
with  the  manner  of  one  who  is  suddenly  enlightened  on  any 
subject  that  has  much  interest  with  him,  or  her ;  "  I  ought 
to  have  expected  something  of  the  sort,  if  half  the  praises 
of  Priscilla  be  true." 

No  one  had  a  better  mother  than  myself.  Thoroughly  a 
lady  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  character,  she  was  also  an 
humble  and  pious  Christian.  Nevertheless,  humility  and 
piety  are,  in  some  respects,  particularly  the  first,  matters 
of  convention.  The  fitness  of  things  had  great  merit  in  the 
eyes  of  both  my  parents,  and  I  cannot  say  that  it  is  entirely 
without  it  in  mine.  In  nothing  is  this  fitness  of  things  more 
appropriate  than  in  equalizing  marriages ;  and  few  things 
are  less  likely  to  be  overlooked  by  a  discreet  parent,  than 
to  have  all  proper  care  that  the  child  connects  itself  pru 
dently  ;  and  that,  too,  as  much  in  reference  to  station,  habits, 
opinions,  breeding  in  particular,  and  the  general  way  of 
thinking,  as  to  fortune.  Principles  are  inferred  among  peo 
ple  of  principle,  as  a  matter  of  course ;  but  subordinate  to 
these,  worldly  position  is  ever  of  great  importance  in  the 
eyes  of  parents.  My  parents  could  not  be  very  different 
from  those  of  other  people,  and  I  could  see  that  both  now 
thought  that  Ursula  Malbone,  the  Chainbearer's  niece,  one 
who  had  actually  carried  chain  herself,  for  I  had  lightly 
mentioned  that  circumstance  in  one  of  my  letters,  was 


THE    CHAINBEAREtt.  427 

scarcely  a  suitable  match  for  the  only  son  of  General  Little- 
page.  Neither  said  much,  however ;  though  my  father  did 
put  one  or  two  questions  that  were  somewhat  to  the  point, 
ere  we  separated. 

"  Am  I  to  understand, -Mordaunt,"  he  asked,  with  a  little 
of  the  gravity  a  parent  might  be  expected  to  exhibit  on  hear 
ing  so  unpleasant  an  announcement — "  Am  I  to  understand, 
Mordaunt,  that  you  are  actually  engaged  to  this  young— 
eh-eh-eh — this  young  person  ?" 

"  Do  not  hesitate,  my  dear  sir,  to  call  Ursula  Malbone  a 
lady.  She  is  a  lady  by  both  birth  and  education.  The 
last,  most  certainly,  or  she  never  could  have  stood  in  the 
relation  she  does  to  your  family." 

"  And  what  relation  is  that,  sir  ?" 

"  It  is  just  this,  my  dear  father.  I  have  offered  to  Ursula 
— indiscreetly,  hastily,  if  you  will,  as  I  ought  to  have  waited 
to  consult  you  and  my  mother — but  we  do  not  always  fol 
low  the  dictates  of  propriety  in  a  matter  of  so  much  feeling. 
I  dare  say,  sir,  you  did  better" — here  I  saw  a  slight  smile 
on  the  pretty  mouth  of  my  mother,  and  I  began  to  suspect 
that  the  general  had  been  no  more  dutiful  than  myself  in 
this  particular — "  but  I  hope  my  forgetfulness  will  be  ex 
cused,  on  account  of  the  influence  of  a  passion  which  we  all 
find  so  hard  to  resist." 

"  But,  what  is  the  relation  this  young — lady — bears  to 
my  family,  Mordaunt  ?  You  are  not  already  married  ?" 

"  Far  from  it,  sir ;  I  should  not  so  far  have  failed  in  re 
spect  to  you  three — or  even  to  Anneke  and  Katrinke.  1 
have  offered,  and  have  been  conditionally  accepted." 

"  Which  condition  is " 

"  The  consent  of  you  three ;  the  perfect  approbation  of 
my  whole  near  connection.  I  believe  that  Dus,  dear  Dus, 
does  love  me,  and  that  she  would  cheerfully  give  me  her 
hand,  were  she  certain  of  its  being  agreeable  to  you,  bu 
that  no  persuasion  of  mine  will  ever  induce  her  so  to  do 
under  other  circumstances." 

"  This  is  something,  for  it  shows  the  girl  has  principle," 
answered  my  father.  «*  Why,  who  goes  there  ?" 

"Who  went  there?"  sure  enough.  There  went  Frank 
Malbone  and  Priscilla  Bayard,  arm  and  arm,  and  so  en 
grossed  in  conversation  that  they  did  not  see  who  were  ob- 


428  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

serving  them.  I  dare  say  they  fancied  they  were  in  the 
woods,  quite  sheltered  from  curious  eyes,  and  at  liberty  to 
saunter  about,  as  much  occupied  with  each  other  as  they 
pleased ;  or,  what  is  more  probable,  that  they  thought  of 
nothing,  just  then,  but  of  themse4ves.  They  came  out  of 
the  court,  and  walked  off  swiftly  into  the  orchard,  appear 
ing  to  tread  on  air,  and  seemingly  as  happy  as  the  birds 
that  were  carolling  on  the  surrounding  trees. 

"  There,  sir,"  I  said,  significantly — "  There,  my  dear 
mother,  is  the  proof  that  Miss  Priscilla  Bayard  will  not 
break  her  heart  on  my  account." 

"  This  is  very  extraordinary,  indeed !"  exclaimed  my 
much  disappointed  grandmother  —  "Is  not  that  the  young 
man  who  we  were  told  acted  as  Chainbearer's  surveyor, 
Corny  ?" 

"  It  is,  my  good  mother,  and  a  very  proper  and  agreeable 
youth  he  is,  as  I  know  by  a  conversation  held  with  him  last 
night.  It  is  very  plain  we  have  all  been  mistaken" — added 
the  general ;  "  though  I  do  not  know  that  we  ought  to  say 
that  we  have  any  of  us  been  deceived." 

"  Here  comes  Kate,  with  a  face  which  announces  that  she 
is  fully  mistress  of  the  secret,"  I  put  in,  perceiving  my  sister 
coming  round  our  angle  of  the  building,  with  a  countenance 
which  I  knew  betokened  that  her  mind  and  heart  were  full. 
She  joined  us,  took  my  arm  without  speaking,  and  followed 
my  father  who  led  his  wife  and  mother  to  a  rude  bench  that 
had  been  placed  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  where  we  all  took  seats, 
each  waiting  for  some  other  to  speak.  My  grandmother 
broke  the  silence. 

"  Do  you  see  Pris.  Bayard  yonder,  walking  with  that  Mr. 
Frank  Chainbearer,  or  Surveyor,  or  whatever  his  name  is, 
Katrinke  dear  ?"  asked  the  good  old  lady. 

"  I  do,  grandmamma,"  answered  the  good  young  lady,  in 
a  voice  so  pitched  as  to  be  hardly  audible. 

"  And  can  you  explain  what  it  means,  darling?" 

"  I  believe  I  can,  ma'am  —  if —  if —  Mordaunt  wishes  to 
hear." 

"  Don't  mind  me,  Kate,"  returned  I,  smiling — "  My  heart 
will  never  be  broken  by  Miss  Priscilla  Bayard." 

The  look  of  sisterly  solicitude  that  I  received  from  that 
honest-hearted  girl,  ought  to  have  made  me  feel  very  grate- 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  429 

fill ;  and  it  did  make  me  feel  grateful,  for  a  sister's  affection 
is  a  sweet  thing.  I  believe  the  calmness  of  my  countenance 
and  its  smiling  expression  encouraged  the  dear  creature,  for 
she  now  began  to  tell  her  story  as  fast  as  was  at  all  in  rule. 

"  The  meaning,  then,  is  this,"  said  Kate.  "  That  gentle 
man  is  Mr.  Francis  Malbone,  and  he  is  the  engaged  suitor 
of  Priscilla.  I  have  had  all  the  facts  from  her  own  mouth." 

"  Will  you,  then,  let  us  hear  as  many  of  them  as  it  is 
proper  we  should  know  ?"  said  the  general,  gravely. 

"  There  is  no  wish  on  the  part  of  Priscilla  to  conceal  any 
thing.  She  has  known  Mr.  Malbone  several  years,  and  they 
have  been  attached  all  that  time.  Nothing  impeded  the  affair 
but  his  poverty.  Old  Mr.  Bayard  objected  to  that,  of  course 
you  know,  as  fathers  will,  and  Priscilla  would  not  engage 
herself.  But  —  do  you  not  remember  to  have  heard  of  the 
death  of  an  old  Mrs.  Hazleton,  at  Bath  in  England,  this  sum 
mer,  mamma?  The  Bayards  are  in  half-mourning  for  her, 
now." 

"  Certainly,  my  dea'r — Mrs.  Hazleton  was  Mr.  Bayard's 
aunt ;  I  knew  her  well  once,  before  she  became  a  refugee— 
her  husband  was  a  half-pay  Colonel  Hazleton  of  the  royal 
artillery ;  and  they  were  tories  of  course.  The  aunt  was 
named  Priscilla,  and  was  godmother  to  our  Pris." 

"  Just  so  —  Well,  this  lady  has  left  Pris.  ten  thousand 
pounds  in  the  English  funds,  and  the  Bayards  now  consent 
to  her  marrying  Mr.  Malbone.  They  say,  too,  but  I  don't 
think  that  can  have  had  any  influence,  for  Mr.  Bayard  and 
his  wife  are  particularly  disinterested  people,  as  indeed  are 
all  the  family" — added  Kate,  hesitatingly  and  looking  down: 
"  but  they  say  that  the  death  of  some  young  man  will  pro 
bably  leave  Mr.  Malbone  the  heir  of  an  aged  cousin  of  his 
late  father's." 

"  And  now,  my  dear  father  and  mother,  you  will  perceive 
that  Miss  Bayard  will  not  break  her  heart  because  I  happen 
to  love  Dus  Malbone.  I  see  by  your  look,  Katrinke,  that 
you  have  had  some  hint  of  this  backsliding  also." 

"  I  have ;  and  what  is  more,  I  have  seen  the  young  lady, 
and  can  hardly  wonder  at  it.  Anneke  and  I  have  been 
passing  two  hours  with  her  this  morning ;  and,  since  you 
cannot  get  Pris.,  I  know  no  other,  Mordaunt  who  will  so 


430  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

thoroughly  supply  her  place.  Anneke  is  in  love  with  her 
also!" 

Dear,  good,  sober-minded,  judicious  Anneke ;  —  she  had 
penetrated  into  the  true  character  of  Dus,  in  a  single  inter 
view  ;  a  circumstance  that  I  ascribed  to  the  impression  left 
by  the  recent  death  of  Chainbearer.  Ordinarily,  that  spirited 
young  woman  would  not  have  permitted  a  sufficiently  near 
approach  in  a  first  interview,  to  permit  a  discovery  of  so 
many  of  her  sterling  qualities ;  but  now  her  heart  was  soft 
ened,  and  her  spirit  so  much  subdued,  one  of  Anneke's 
habitual  gentleness  would  be  very  apt  to  win  on  her  sympa 
thies,  and  draw  the  two  close  to  each  other.  The  reader  is 
not  to  suppose  that  Dus  had  opened  her  mind  like  a  vulgar 
school-girl,  and  made  my  sister  a  confidant  of  the  relation 
in  which  she  and  I  stood  to  one  another.  She  had  not  said, 
or  hinted,  a  syllable  on  the  subject.  The  information  Kate 
possessed  had  come  from  Priscilla  Bayard,  who  obtained  it 
from  Frank,  as  a  matter  of  course;  and  my  sister  subse 
quently  admitted  to  me  that  her  friend's  happiness  was  aug 
mented  by  the  knowledge  that  I  should  not  be  a  sufferer  by 
her  earlier  preference  for  Malbone,  and  that  she  was  likely 
to  have  me  for  a  brother-in-law.  All  this  I  gleaned  from 
Kate,  in  our  subsequent  conferences. 

"  This  is  extraordinary  !"  exclaimed  the  general — "  very 
extraordinary  ;  and  to  me  quite  unexpected." 

"  We  can  have  no  right  to  control  Miss  Bayard's  choice," 
observed  my  discreet  and  high-principled  mother.  "  She  is 
her  own  mistress,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned;  and  if  her 
own  parents  approve  of  her  choice,  the  less  we  say  about 
it  the  better.  As  respects  this  connection  of  Mordaunt's,  I 
hope  he,  himself,  will  admit  of  our  right  to  have  opinions." 

"  Perfectly  so,  my  dearest  mother.  All  I  ask  of  you  is 
to  express  no  opinion,  however,  until  you  have  seen  Ursula 
—  have  become  acquainted  with  her,  and  are  qualified  to 
judge  of  her  fitness  to  be  not  only  mine,  but  any  man's  wife. 
I  ask  but  this  of  your  justice." 

"  It  is  just ;  and  I  shall  act  on  the  suggestion,"  observed 
my  father.  "  You  have  a  right  to  demand  this  of  us,  Mor- 
daunt,  and  I  can  promise  for  your  mother,  as  well  as  my- 
Belf." 

"After  all,  Anneke,"  put  in  grandmother,  "  I  am  not  sure 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  431 

we  have  no  right  to  complain  of  Miss  Bayard's  conduct 
towards  us.  Had  she  dropped  the  remotest  hint  of  her  being 
engaged  to  this  Malbrook,  I  would  never  have  endeavoured 
to  lead  my  grandson  to  think  of  her  seriously  for  one  mo 
ment." 

"  Your  grandson  never  has  thought  of  her  seriously  for 
one  moment,  or  for  half  a  moment,  dearest  grandmother," 
I  cried ;  "  so  give  your  mind  no  concern  on  that  subject 
Nothing  of  the  sort  could  make  me  happier  than  to  know 
that  Priscilla  Bayard  is  to  marry  Frank  Malbone ;  unless  it 
were  to  be  certain  I  am  myself  to  marry  the  latter's  half- 
sister." 

"  How  can  this  be  ?  —  How  could  such  a  thing  possibly 
come  to  pass,  my  child !  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have 
heard  of  this  person — much  less  to  have  spoken  to  you  on 
the  subject  of  such  a  connection." 

"  Oh !  dearest  grandmother,  we  truant  children  sometimes 
get  conceits  of  this  nature  into  our  heads  and  hearts,  with 
out  stopping  to  consult  our  relatives  as  we  ought  to  do." 

But  it  is  useless  to  repeat  all  that  was  said  in  the  long  and 
desultory  conversation  that  followed.  I  had  no  reason  to 
be  dissatisfied  with  my  parents,  who  ever  manifested  towards 
me  not  only  great  discretion,  but  great  indulgence.  I  con 
fess,  when  a  domestic  came  to  say  that  Miss  Dus  was  at  the 
breakfast-table,  waiting  for  us  alone,  I  trembled  a  little  for 
the  effect  that  might  be  produced  on  her  appearance  by  the 
scenes  she  had  lately  gone  through.  She  had  wept  a  great 
deal  in  the  course  of  the  last  week ;  and  when  I  last  saw 
her,  which  was  the  glimpse  caught  at  the  funeral,  she  was 
pale  and  dejected  in  aspect.  A  lover  is  so  jealous  of  even 
the  impression  that  his  mistress  will  make  on  those  he 
wishes  to  admire  her,  that  I  felt  particularly  uncomfortable 
as  we  entered  first  the  court,  then  the  house,  and  last  the 
eating-room. 

A  spacious  and  ample  board  had  been  spread  for  the  ac 
commodation  of  our  large  party.  Anneke,  Priscilla,  Frank 
Malbone,  Aunt  Mary,  and  Ursula,  were  already  seated  when 
we  entered,  Dus  occupying  the  head  of  the  table.  No  one 
had  commenced  the  meal,  nor  had  the  young  mistress  of 
the  board  even  begun  to  pour  out  the  tea  and  coffee  (for  my 
presence  had  brought  abundance  into  the  house),  but  there 


432  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

she  sat,  respectfully  waiting  for  those  to  approach  who 
might  be  properly  considered  the  principal  guests.  I  thought 
Dus  had  never  appeared  more  lovely.  Her  dress  was  a  neatly- 
arranged  and  tasteful  half-mourning ;  with  which  her  golden 
hair,  rosy  cheeks,  and  bright  eyes,  contrasted  admirably. 
The  cheeks  of  Dus,  too,  had  recovered  their  colour,  and  her 
eyes  their  brightness.  The  fact  was,  that  the  riews  of  her 
brother's  improved  fortunes  had  even  been  better  than  we 
were  just  told.  Frank  found  letters  for  him  at  the  'Nest, 
announcing  the  death  of  his  kinsman,  with  a  pressing  invi 
tation  to  join  the  bereaved  parent,  then  an  aged  and  bed 
ridden  invalid,  as  his  adopted  son.  He  was  urged  to  bring 
Dus  with  him ;  and  he  received  a  handsome  remittance  to 
enable  him  so  to  do  without  inconvenience  to  himself.  This 
alone  would  have  brought  happiness  back  to  the  countenance 
of  the  poor  and  dependent.  Dus  mourned  her  uncle  in  sin 
cerity,  and  she  long  continued  to  mourn  for  him  ;  but  her 
mourning  was  that  of  the  Christian  who  hoped.  Chainbear- 
er's  hurt  had  occurred  several  days  before  ;  and  the  first 
feeling  of  sorrow  had  become  lessened  by  time  and  reflec 
tion.  His  end  had  been  happy ;  and  he  was  now  believed 
to  be  enjoying  the  fruition  of  his  'penitence  through  the 
sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God. 

It  was  easy  to  detect  the  surprise  that  appeared  in  the 
countenances  of  all  my  parents,  as  Miss  Malbone  rose,  like 
one  who  was  now  confident  of  her  position  and  claims  to 
give  and  to  receive  the  salutations  that  were  proper  for  the 
occasion.  Never  did  any  young  woman  acquit  herself 
better  than  Dus,  who  curtsied  gracefully  as  a  queen  ;  while 
she  returned  the  compliments  she  received  with  the  self- 
possession  of  one  bred  in  courts.  To  this  she  was  largely 
indebted  to  nature ;  though  her  schooling  had  been  good. 
Many  of  the  first  young  women  of  the  colony  had  been  her 
companions  for  years;  and  in  that  day,  manner  was  far 
more  attended  to  than  it  is  getting  to  be  amongst  us  now.  My 
mother  was  delighted  ;  for,  as  she  afterwards  assured  me, 
her  mind  was  already  made  up  to  receive  Ursula  as  a  daugh 
ter;  since  she  thought  it  due  to  honour  to  redeem  my 
plighted  faith.  General  Littlepage  might  not  have  been  so 
very  scrupulous  }  though  even  he  admitted  the  right  of  the 
obligations  I  had  incurred ;  but  Dus  fairly  carried  him  by  storm. 


THE     CHAIN  BE  A  HER.  433 

The  tempered  sadness  of  her  mien  gave  an  exquisite  finish 
to  her  beauty,  rendering  all  she  said,  did,  and  looked,  that 
morning,  perfect.  In  a  word,  everybody  was  wondering ; 
but  everybody  was  pleased.  An  hour  or  two  later,  and  after 
the  ladies  had  been  alone  together,  my  excellent  grand 
mother  came  to  me  and  desired  to  have  a  little  conversation 
with  me  apart.  We  found  a  seat  in  the  arbour  of  the  court ; 
and  my  venerable  parent  commenced  as  follows : — 

"  Well,  Mordaunt,  my  dear,  it  is  time  that  you  should 
think  of  marrying  and  of  settling  in  life.  As  Miss  Bayard 
is  happily  engaged,  I  do  not  see  that  you  can  do  better  than 
to  offer  to  Miss  Malbone.  Never  have  I  seen  so  beautiful  a 
creature ;  and  the  generous-minded  Pris.  tells  me  she  is  as 
good,  and  virtuous,  and  wise,  as  she  is  lovely.  She  is  well 
born  and  well  educated ;  and  may  have  a  good  fortune  in 
the  bargain,  if  that  old  Mr.  Malbone  is  as  rich  as  they  tell 
me  is,  and  has  conscience  enough  to  make  a  just  will. 
Take  my  advice,  my  dear  son,  and  marry  Ursula  Malbone." 

Dear  grandmother !  I  did  take  her  advice ;  and  I  am 
persuaded  that,  to  her  dying  day,  she  was  all  the  more  happy 
under  the  impression  that  she  had  materially  aided  in  bring 
ing  about  the  connection. 

As  General  Littlepage  and  Colonel  Pollock  had  come  so 
far,  they  chose  to  remain  a  month  or  two,  in  order  to  look 
after  their  lands,  and  to  revisit  some  scenes  in  that  part  of 
the  world  in  which  both  felt  a  deep  interest.  My  mother, 
and  Aunt  Mary,  too,  seemed  content  to  remain ;  for  they 
remembered  events  which  the  adjacent  country  recalled  to 
their  minds  with  a  melancholy  pleasure.  In  the  meanwhile 
Frank  went  to  meet  his  cousin,  and  had  time  to  return,  ere 
our  party  was  disposed  to  break  up.  During  his  absence 
everything  was  arranged  for  my  marriage  with  his  sister. 
This  event  took  place  just  two  months,  to  a  day,  from  that 
of  the  funeral  of  Chainbearer.  A  clergyman  was  obtained 
from  Albany  to  perform  the  ceremony,  as  neither  party 
belonged  to  the  Congregational  order ;  and,  an  hour  after 
we  were  united,  everybody  left  us  alone  at  the  'Nest,  on  their 
return  south.  I  say  everybody,  though  Jaap  and  Susquesus 
were  exceptions.  These  two  remained,  and  remain  to  this 
hour ;  though  the  negro  did  return  to  Lilacsbush  and  Satans- 
toe  to  assemble  his  family,  and  to  pay  occasional  visits. 
37 


434  THE     CHAINBEARER. 

There  was  much  profound  feeling,  but  little  parade  at  the 
wedding.  My  mother  had  got  to  love  Ursula  as  if  she  were 
her  own  child ;  and  I  had  not  only  the  pleasure,  but  the 
triumph  of  seeing  the  manner  in  which  my  betrothed  ren 
dered  herself  from  day  to  day,  and  this  without  any  other 
means  than  the  most  artless  and  natural,  more  and  more 
acceptable  to  my  friends. 

"  This  is  perfect  happiness,"  said  Dus  to  me,  one  lovely 
afternoon  that  we  were  strolling  in  company  along  the  cliff 
near  the  Nest — and  a  few  minutes  after  she  had  left  my 
mother's  arms,  who  had  embraced  and  blessed  her,  as  a 
pious  parent  does  both  to  a  well-beloved  child — "  This  is 
perfect  happiness,  Mordaunt,  to  be  the  chosen  of  you,  and 
the  accepted  of  your  parents !  I  never  knew,  until  now, 
what  it  is  to  have  a  parent.  Uncle  Chainbearer  did  all  he 
could  for  me,  and  I  shall  cherish  his  memory  to  my  latest 
breath — but  uncle  Chainbearer  could  never  supply  the  place 
of  a  mother.  How  blessed,  how  undeservedly  blessed  does 
my  lot  promise  to  become!  You  will  give  me  not  only 
parents,  and  parents  I  can  love  as  well  as  if  they  were 
those  granted  by  nature,  but  you  will  give  me  also  two  such 
sisters  as  few  others  possess  !" 

"  And  I  give  you  all,  dearest  Dus,  encumbered  with  such 
a  husband  that  I  am  almost  afraid  you  will  fancy  the  other 
gifts  too  dearly  purchased,  when  you  come  to  know  him 
better." 

The  ingenuous,  grateful  look,  the  conscious  blush,  and 
the  thoughtful,  pensive  smile,  each  and  all  said  that  my 
pleased  and  partial  listener  had  no  concern  on  that  score. 
Had  I  then  understood  the  sex  as  well  as  I  now  do,  I  might 
have  foreseen  that  a  wife's  affection  augments,  instead  of 
diminishing;  that  the  love  the  pure  and  devoted  matron 
bears  her  husband  increases  with  time,  and  gets  to  be  a  part 
and  parcel  of  her  moral  existence.  I  am  no  advocate  of 
what  are  called,  strictly,  "  marriages  of  reason" — I  think 
the  solemn  and  enduring  knot  should  be  tied  by  the  hands 
of  warm-hearted,  impulsive  affection,  increased  and  strength 
ened  by  knowledge  and  confidential  minglings  of  thought 
and  feeling ;  but,  I  have  lived  long  enough  to  understand 
that,  lively  as  are  the  passions  of  youth,  they  produce  no 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  435 

delights  like  those  which  spring  from  the  tried  and  deep 
affections  of  a  happy  married  life. 

And  we  were  married  !  The  ceremony  took  place  before 
breakfast,  in  order  to  enable  our  friends  to  reach  the  great 
highway  ere  night  should  overtake  them.  The  meal  that 
succeeded  was  silent  and  thoughtful.  Then  my  dear,  dear 
mother  took  Dus  in  her  arms,  and  kissed  and  blessed  her 
again  and  again.  My  honoured  father  did  the  same,  bid 
ding  my  weeping,  but  happy  bride  remember  that  she  was 
now  his  daughter.  "  Mordaunt  is  a  good  fellow,  at  the  bot 
tom,  dear,  and  will  love  and  cherish  you,  as  he  has  pro 
mised,"  added  the  general,  blowing  his  nose  to  conceal  his 
emotion ;  "  but,  should  he  ever  forget  any  part  of  his  vows, 
come  to  me,  and  I  will  visit  him  with  a  father's  displea 
sure." 

"  No  fear  of  Mordaunt — no  fear  of  Mordaunt,"  put  in 
my  worthy  grandmother,  who  succeeded  in  the  temporary 
leave-taking — "  he  is  a  Litllepage,  and  all  the  Littlepages 
make  excellent  husbands.  The  boy  is  as  like  what  his 
grandfather  was,  at  his  time  of  life,  as  one  pea  is  like  an 
other.  God  bless  you,  daughter — You  will  visit  me  at 
Satanstoe  this  fall,  when  I  shall  have  great  pleasure  in 
showing  you  my  general's  picture." 

Anneke,  and  Kate,  and  Pris.  Bayard  hugged  Dus  in  such 
a  way  that  I  was  afraid  they  would  eat  her  up,  while  Frank 
took  his  leave  of  his  sister  with  the  manly  tenderness  he 
always  showed  her.  The  fellow  was  too  happy  himself, 
however,  to  be  shedding  many  tears,  though  Dus  actually 
sobbed  on  his  bosom.  The  dear  creature  was  doubtless  run 
ning  over  the  past,  in  her  mind,  and  putting  it  in  contrast 
with  the  blessed  present. 

At  the  end  of  the  honey-moon,  I  loved  Dus  twice  as 
much  as  I  had  loved  her  the  hour  we  were  married.  Had 
any  one  told  me  this  was  possible,  I  should  have  derided  the 
thought ;  but  thus  it  was,  and,  I  may  truly  add,  thus  has  it 
ever  continued  to  be.  At  the  end  of  that  month,  we  left 
Ravensnest  for  Lilacsbush,  when  I  had  the  pleasure  of  see 
ing  my  bride  duly  introduced  to  that  portion  of  what  is 
called  the  world,  to  which  she  properly  belonged.  Pre 
viously  to  quitting  the  Patent,  however,  all  my  plans  were 
made,  and  contracts  were  signed,  preparatory  to  the  con- 


436  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

struction  of  the  house  that  my  father  had  mentioned.  Th* 
foundation  was  laid  that  same  season,  and  we  did  keep  our 
Christmas  holidays  in  it,  the  following  year,  by  which  time 
Dus  had  made  me  the  father  of  a  noble  boy. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  Frank  and  Pris.  were 
married,  as  were  Tom  and  Kate,  at  no  great  distance  of 
time  after  ourselves.  Both  of  those  matches  have  turned 
out  to  be  perfectly  happy.  Old  Mr.  Malbone  did  not  survive 
the  winter,  and  he  left  the  whole  of  a  very  sufficient  estate 
to  his  kinsman.  Frank  was  desirous  of  making  his  sister 
a  sharer  in  his  good  fortune,  but  I  would  not  hear  of  it. 
Dus  was  treasure  enough  of  herself,  and  wanted  not  money 
to  enhance  her  value  in  my  eyes.  I  thought  so  in  1785, 
and  I  think  so  to-day.  We  got  some  plate  and  presents, 
that  were  well  enough,  but  never  would  accept  any  portion 
of  the  property.  The  rapid  growth  of  New  York  brought 
our  vacant  lots  in  that  thriving  town  into  the  market,  and 
we  soon  became  richer  than  was  necessary  to  happiness.  I 
hope  the  gifts  of  Providence  have  never  been  abused.  Of 
one  thing  I  am  certain ;  Dus  has  ever  been  far  more  prized 
by  me  than  any  other  of  my  possessions. 

I  ought  to  say  a  word  of  Jaap  and  the  Indian.  Both  are 
still  living,  and  both  dwell  at  the  Nest.  For  the  Indian  I 
caused  a  habitation  to  be  erected  in  a  certain  ravine,  at  no 
great  distance  from  the  house,  and  which  had  been  the 
scene  of  one  of  his  early  exploits  in  that  part  of  the  country. 
Here  he  lives,  and  has  lived  for  the  last  twenty  years,  and 
here  he  hopes  to  die.  He  gets  his  food,  blankets,  and  what 
ever  else  is  necessary  to  supply  his  few  wants,  at  the  Nest, 
coming  and  going  at  will.  He  is  now  drawing  fast  on  old 
age,  but  retains  his  elastic  step,  upright  movement,  and 
vigour.  I  do  not  see  but  he  may  live  to  be  a  hundred. 
The  same  is  true  of  Jaap.  The  old  fellow  holds  on,  and 
enjoys  life  like  a  true  descendant  of  the  Africans.  He  and 
Sus  are  inseparable,  and  often  stray  off  into  the  forest  on 
long  hunts,  even  in  the  winter,  returning  with  loads  of  veni 
son,  wild  turkeys,  and  other  game.  The  negro  dwells  at 
the  Nest,  but  half  his  time  he  sleeps  in  the  wigwam,  as  we 
call  the  dwelling  of  Sus.  The  two  old  fellows  dispute  frequent- . 
ly,  and  occasionally  they  quarrel ;  but,  as  neither  drinks,  the 
quarrels  are  never  very  long  or  very  serious.  They  generally 


THE    CHAINBEARER.  437 

grow  out  of  differences  of  opinion  on  moral  philosophy,  as 
connected  with  their  respective  views  of  the  past  and  the 
future. 

Lowiny  remained  with  us  as  a  maid  until  she  made  a 
very  suitable  marriage  with  one  of  my  own  tenants.  For 
a  little  while  after  my  marriage  I  thought  she  was  melan 
choly,  probably  through  regret  for  her  absent  and  dispersed 
family ;  but  this  feeling  soon  disappeared,  and  she  became 
contented  and  happy.  Her  good  looks  improved  under  the 
influence  of  civilization,  and  I  have  the  satisfaction  of  add 
ing  that  she  never  has  had  any  reason  to- regret  having  at 
tached  herself  to  us.  To  this  moment  she  is  an  out-door 
dependant  and  humble  friend  of  my  wife,  and  we  find  her 
particularly  useful  in  cases  of  illness  among  our  children. 

What  shall  I  say  of  'squire  Newcome  7  He  lived  to  a 
good  old  age,  dying  quite  recently ;  and,  with  many  who 
knew,  or,  rather,  who  did  not  know  him,  he  passed  for  a 
portion  of  the  salt  of  the  earth.  I  never  proceeded  against 
him  on  account  of  his  connection  with  the  squatters,  and  he 
lived  his  time  in  a  sort  of  lingering  uncertainty  as  to  my 
knowledge  of  his  tricks.  That  man  became  a  sort  of  a  dea 
con  in  his  church,  was  more  than  once  a  member  of  the 
Assembly,  and  continued  to  be  a  favourite  recipient  of  pub 
lic  favours  down  to  his  last  moment ;  and  this  simply  be 
cause  his  habits  brought  him  near  to  the  mass,  and  because 
he  took  the  most  elaborate  care  never  to  tell  them  a  truth 
that  was  unpleasant.  He  once  had  the  temerity  to  run 
against  me  for  Congress,  but  that  experiment  proved  to  be 
a  failure.  Had  it  been  attempted  forty  years  later,  it  might 
have  succeeded  better.  Jason  died  poor  and  in  debt,  after 
all  his  knavery  and  schemes.  Avidity  for  gold  had  over 
reached  itself  in  his  case,  as  it  does  in  those  of  so  many 
others.  His  descendants,  notwithstanding,  remain  with  us ; 
and,  while  they  have  succeeded  to  very  little  in  the  way  o/ 
property,  they  are  the  legitimate  heritors  of  their  ancestor's 
vulgarity  of  mind  and  manners — of  his  tricks,  his  dissimu 
lations,  and  his  frauds.  This  is  the  way  in  which  Provi 
dence  "  visits  the  sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children,  unto 
the  third  and  fourth  generations." 

Little  more  remains  to  be  said.  The  owners  of  Moose- 
ridge  have  succeeded  in  selling  all  the  lots  they  wished  to 
37* 


438  THE    CHAINBEARER. 

put  into  the  market,  and  large  sums  stand  secured  on  them, 
in  the  way  of  bonds  and  mortgages.  Anneke  and  Kate 
have  received  fair  portions  of  this  property,  including  much 
that  belonged  to  Colonel  Pollock,  who  now  lives  altogether 
with  my  parents.  Aunt  Mary,  I  regret  to  say,  died  a  few 
years  since,  a  victim  to  small-pox.  She  never  married,  of 
course,  and  left  her  handsome  property  between  my  sisters 
and  a  certain  lady  of  the  name  of  Ten  Eyck,  who  needed 
it,  and  whose  principal  claim  consisted  in  her  being  a  third 
cousin  of  her  former  lover,  I  believe.  My  mother  mourned 
the  death  of  her  friend  sincerely,  as  did  we  all ;  but  we  had 
the  consolation  of  believing  her  happy  with  the  angels. 

I  caused  to  be  erected,  in  the  extensive  grounds  that  were 
laid  out  around  the  new  dwelling  at  the  Nest,  a  suitable 
monument  over  the  grave  of  Chainbearer.  It  bore  a  simple 
inscription,  and  one  that  my  children  now  often  read  and 
comment  on  with  pleasure.  We  all  speak  of  him  as  "  Uncle 
Chainbearer"  to  this  hourf  and  his  grave  is  never  mentioned 
in  other  terms  than  those  of  "  Uncle  Chainbearer's  grave." 
Excellent  old  man !  That  he  was  not  superior  to  the  fail 
ings  of  human  nature,  need  not  be  said ;  but,  so  long  as  he 
lived,  he  lived  a  proof  of  how  much  more  respectable  and 
estimable  is  the  man  who  takes  simplicity,  and  honesty,  and 
principle,  and  truth  for  his  guide,  than  he  who  endeavours 
to  struggle  through  the  world  by  the  aid  of  falsehood,  chi 
canery,  and  trick. 


THE    END    OF    CHAINBEARER 


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